


The Raven

by Lalaith_Quetzalli



Series: Triune [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cameos from Suits and Criminal Minds, F/F, Fix-It, Hale Family Feels, M/M, Mates, Multi, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Tattoos, Temporary Character Death, The Hale Pack Survives, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27379441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalaith_Quetzalli/pseuds/Lalaith_Quetzalli
Summary: The world ended… or did it? Stiles isn’t sure anymore. He doesn’t know if he’s been thrown back in time, if he’s in the afterlife, or just having the most realistic dream ever. He doesn’t know if a new life’s just beginning, or if it’s about to end… doesn’t matter, what does is that he’ll do what he always does: fight to protect anyone and everyone, whatever it takes.OrThe story of the Triune's time-travel, with Stiles as the focus.
Relationships: Derek Hale's Father/Talia Hale, Derek Hale/Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Past Peter Hale/Original Female Character, Peter Hale/Sheriff Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski & Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski & The Hale Pack, past Claudia Stilinski/Sheriff Stilinski
Series: Triune [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2000062
Comments: 6
Kudos: 108





	The Raven

**Author's Note:**

> I totally love time-travel fix-it fics, they're my favorite trope ever, one of those I always go to when I want to read fics in any given fandoms. I've also been in love with the Teen Wolf fandom for a while now (more the fics than the series, to be honest). So, here we are! 
> 
> This is actually the second time-travel fix-it that I write for Teen Wolf. It began as a sort-of idea for an AU of Time River (my other fic of this kind), but it soon became its own story. It was supposed to be a simple, three-part story that I hoped to write in a week or so. Over six weeks and 80k+ words later... yeah, I should be used by now to the fact that I'm just incapable of writing simple, short stories. Still, I'm extremely proud of how this is turning out so... 
> 
> The basic story consists of three parts, which will be posted as separate One-Shots. Each one narrates the same span of time, only the focus is a different member of the triune (and no, the use of that word is not a mistake, it's all in the meaning). There might be a fourth, which will serve as a sort-of continuation/epilogue, it's not certain yet, I'm still on the fence about it (I accept comments on whether the story should end where this one does or if I should continue). 
> 
> This is about the third time or so that I handle a polyamory ship, and only the second that I make them the main relationship in the story. I've personally no experience with it, but have done my best. 
> 
> While the main relationship is Sterydia, you'll see a fair bit of Stydia in this fic, for reasons that are explained in the fic itself. Don't worry, Sterydia is the endgame here. 
> 
> I went down a very different path in this, compared to Time River, and to most time-travel fix-it fics. I'm actually proud of that. Hope you'll enjoy! So without further ado, here we go!

****

He wakes up with a soundless scream, he's long since learned to keep quiet even through his most terrible nightmares. He sits up in bed, cold sweat making his sleeping t-shirt cling to his skin but he pays no attention to that. Instead he brings his hands to his face and begins counting his fingers, one to ten, once, twice, thrice. Once he's convinced there are no extra-fingers he turns to one side to see a Batman Begins poster with a 'Coming Soon' line at the bottom. It makes him blink, like there's something strange about it, but he cannot grasp what it is. So he decides to turn his attention to something else instead: the last thing he can remember…

_Things were bad… really, really bad. Stiles had at some point wondered what might happen if humanity, if the 'mundane' humans, ever found out the truth about the supernaturals, of course he had (who hadn't). He never expected it to turn out so horribly… maybe learning about the witch-hunts in high-school should have taught him something? Except in a way it was even worse than that, and not just because he and his friends were smack-dab in the middle of things but… Stiles never expected to end up as the last man standing. And if anyone had asked him, he'd have told them that he never wanted something like that._

_And yet that was exactly their current situation. Derek was… he was… Stiles couldn't even bring himself to think about it, even with Lydia's wail still making his ears ring. And she wasn't stopping. At some point her scream went from a banshee announcing a terrible death to one seeking to cause it, her grief and fury taking over completely. Stiles wondered if it was some sort of bizarre coincidence, but he could almost believe that his back was burning, his tattoo…_

_He saw the gun from the corner of his eye, didn't even really get the chance to stop and think about it. There was just no time. His body was moving before he was fully conscious of it, his only thought the desire to save one of the people he loved most… it was so infinitely important, especially since he'd already lost one… And then Lydia's scream broke off with a wet gurgle and he knew, even without looking, that she was dead._

_Derek was dead… Lydia was dead… and so was he._

_Stiles's last thought before blackness claimed him was how much he wished they could have a second chance. He could do better… he'd do better…_

He doubles over on his bed. His chest hurts, so much, as does his back, if for different reasons. He almost feel like he cannot breath… the exact same feeling he got when that bullet went into his chest. And his back, the very spot where his tattoo used to be, feels like its burning… he's fighting against his own mind, against the way it insists on running seven different lines of thought at the same time. None of which seem to be too useful and then… then a scream breaks the quiet of the night. Or no, not a scream, a wail.

Stiles moves before he's fully aware of what he's doing. In seconds he's diving out of his open window. He doesn't even stop to put on shoes, or cares that he's wearing nothing more than an old sweatshirt and loose sleeping pants. It's only once he's outside that he realizes that it's cold, really cold, like, probably under 50° cold! He also realizes that the sun hasn't risen quite yet and, almost as an afterthought, that he's small! So much smaller than he used to be.

A part of his brain is actually wondering how the hell he managed to miss that when he was counting his fingers earlier. He doesn't truly realize it until he goes into roll after diving out of the window and his body doesn't respond the way he's used to. It isn't too bad, he manages to force his body to comply, but it does make things harder than they have to be, if it weren't for the magic he probably would have gotten injured… and he has magic again?! He thought he lost it all with the burning of the Nemeton?! Then again, of all the bizarre things going on in that moment, that one is far from being at the top of the list.

He manages to keep running through it all. A single thought going to directing some of his magic to his feet, to allow him to run faster, and to keep the cold away (the last thing he needs is to end up losing a toe or something due to freaking frostbite of all things). He doesn't even stop to consider where he's running exactly until he breaks through the tree-line and straight into a rather big clearing… then he's left gaping, breathless… due both to the emotion suddenly forming a knot in his throat, and the thick, black smoke all around. And just like that, he knows not just Where he is, but also When…

For several seconds he just… freezes. He has no idea what's going on. He's not dreaming, he's 99% sure of that (because one can never be absolutely certain about anything), but then what? Is he in the afterlife? If so, it's a pretty shitty one. His ideal afterlife would have had him waking up in the arms of his lovers, in his early thirties, and not the day of the Hale fire, in his eleven-year-old body!

Three things hit him in quick succession: an alpha wolf's furious roar, a child's terrified scream, and his own thought from the last memory before waking up in his bed: _I'll do better_.

Those words help spur him on as he half runs, half stumbles fully into the clearing. He rushes straight towards the backdoor, the one he knows is closest to the door that leads to the basement, where Alpha Hale will have lead her pack in an attempt to escape the fire. That's obviously not going to work, with the barricades and the mountain ash. And if Stiles had been thinking clearly when he began running, he could have headed towards the entrance to the tunnels that's at the end of the road and approached from there. Then again, when he began running, the possibility of time-travel hadn't been in his mind, even with his younger body and everything else… truth was, he still wasn't totally convinced he'd actually traveled back in time, but lacking any other feasible explanation (and what the hell is his life that 'time travel' counts as a feasible explanation for anything?!). He notices the moment he reaches a mountain ash barrier, as it makes him stumble. What surprises him, is that he's still a few yards from the house's back-porch. Which means that there was more than one ash-line, which in turn means a lot more planning went into the killing of the original Hale pack than even he imagined and that's both incredibly methodical, and utterly sickening…

The screaming and the howling are getting so loud he needs to fight like hell to keep his focus. He stops in the backyard, in between the two lines of mountain ash, focuses on grounding himself on the earth, on the power that runs beneath it and his ability to access it… because he's a Spark, and while that in many ways means that he has no real power himself (he's not like a sorcerer of a mage, those who have power and fuel all on their own and are capable of both incredible and terrible things because of it), he can touch the magic in things like mountain ash, like the ley lines, and sort of… activate it. Or deactivate it, as the case might be. Which is exactly what he does in that moment.

The pack still won't be able to use the tunnels, the barricades won't let them. And there's just no time for Stiles to run to the closest tunnel entrance and open them. Which means a plan B is needed; and there's really only one thing he can do… there's a corner of his mind that points out that going out without taking his daily dose of Aderall might not have been the best idea; it might have helped stop his impulsiveness and recklessness… then again, he doubts that even with more time he'd have been able to think of a better plan so…

There's a lot of smoke inside the house, though thankfully the fire hasn't yet overtaken the back of it the way it has the front. So Stiles manages to cross the kitchen and reach the basement door. He half-runs half-trips down the stairs. Only barely managing to hold onto the banister before he ends up falling all the way down. His stop sudden and loud enough that he manages to call the attention of most of the pack huddled down there.

"You need to get out now!" He yells at them.

No one says a thing, none of them even moves. Stiles would pull at his hair… if he had any. But there's just no time.

"NOW!" He yells at the top of his lungs.

He doesn't realize until after the fact that he's tapping a bit into the magic of the land, but since it at least gets the Hales moving, that's good.

"We cannot get out that way!" Someone's yelling, it's a male voice but doesn't sound like Peter (then again, Stiles knows Derek had a father and other male relatives whom Stiles never met and wouldn't know what they sound like). "The door's blocked!"

"Not anymore!" He yells without looking back.

Most of the Hales still hesitate before following, when he rushes out. All, surprisingly, except for a young woman who's carrying in her arms a little baby. Stiles watches her, breathless both due to exertion and the realization. Because he knows who the baby is: little Oliver Hale, Peter's newborn son, the youngest person to officially die in the fire. Officially… because a lot more people died in that fire than what the forensics' report showed. Because so little was left of the bodies, that in the end the number of dead was reported according to the people that were known to live in that house; no one in town knew that because the previous night was the Wolfmoon the Hales had visitors, the whole extended family… almost thirty people in all, half of them minors… The only reason he knows is because of Derek…

It doesn't occur to Stiles to wonder where Peter is exactly until he hears the howling, and then a roar… coming from outside. Peter's outside! It's only then that Stiles realizes that even though he'd met all the survivors of the Hale fire at one point or another, he still didn't know how some of them survived. Derek and Laura were easy enough, he'd gone to school early for basketball practice, since the team were expected to make it to Nationals that year; and Laura was meeting her boyfriend for breakfast before he took a plane back to base, he was apparently in the army or something like that. But what about Peter? Stiles has wondered more than once how Peter could survive the fire, yet it was one question he never dared ask… even he isn't that much of a bastard, to bring up something like that (same applies to Cora).

He realizes the answer then. Peter wasn't in the house! No, in fact, chances were he was the one to take Derek and/or Laura into town that morning, which means that he returned either before the fire truly began, or just as it did… and if the hunters trapped him in between the two lines of mountain ash… Stiles is almost sick as he reaches the obvious conclusion. It's probably a good thing that he's pulled out of his own line of thought by the sound of growling in the distance, followed by some shots, missed ones obviously, seeing how no pained whines follow; and then that's cut off too. Meaning Peter or someone else has managed to find the ones responsible for the fire and dealt with them. That's good.

Also, Peter being outside explains why someone else is holding his son… she's small, plain-looking, with light brunette hair and Californian highlights pulled up in a messy twist, tanned skin. Doesn't look like any of the Hales he's ever met… which means she's gotta be Derek's aunt, his father's little sister: Mandy. Derek told him once a story, of how his dad and his little sister were born human in San Francisco, how Mandy went on a blind date, and the guy turned out to be a psycho alpha, who turned her and tried to mate with her by force. She killed him in self-defense and ran back home, where Zachery received her and then the two of them did their best to survive, having no idea what was going on, until Talia found them… She saved them, taught Mandy how to be a wolf, how to not be a monster, she gave the two siblings a home… and then Talia and Zachery fell in love… Derek said that most packs didn't understand it, his mom, the most powerful and well-respected alpha on the West Coast choosing to mate a human, one who hadn't even wanted the bite, who was essentially a nobody to them… but the two of them loved each other so much. Stiles can see it when he looks at them, the way they stand so closely together, never taking their eyes off their youngest children, or their ears off the rest of the pack.

For a few seconds the Hales are just standing there, watching the flames slowly overtake their house, loud and awful creaking noises announcing the structure will be giving out any moment. And then they seem to remember him, and suddenly all eyes are on him.

"You… you saved us..." Talia's the one to speak to him, looking at him with a mix of awe, gratefulness and doubt. "Who are you?"

Stiles opens his mouth slowly, mind working a mile a minute as he tries to think of a way to answer that won't be a lie (he knows that won't fly well, they're all wound so tight, if he so much as tries lying they're liable to kill him, regardless of the fact that he just saved all their lives), but won't require him to try and explain things even he doesn't understand, when abruptly something else captures his attention entirely: it feels almost like deja-vu, the way he only barely sees the gun from the corner of his eye, the way he's moving before he even knows it… it's instinctive. Lydia might not be there, his Lydia might be as good as dead, but he can still remember Derek's eyes the night he finally told them about his family: about his mother the Alpha, his father the caretaker of the family, Laura the future-alpha and overprotective big sister, Cora the rebellious little sister who was always more wolf than human, the hellion twins, Jeremy and Joshua, his baby brothers, so young and so very, very human; his aunt Mandy who was in love with a human teacher called Robert, his cousin Philip who was taken in by Talia after his parents were killed by hunters (his father having been Talia's cousin who married into another pack, in Nevada), and his grandma: Imala. And of course, their extended family: Talia's five cousins, four of whom are married, three couples who have children, not a single one of them past their teenage years yet, most of them not even that.

He doesn't feel it at first. Has a few seconds to wonder if the shot missed him, or if he was wrong about the target. He spins around defensively, adrenaline pumping through his veins, his right hand reaching for a weapon that isn't strapped to his back. He manages to see the moment when one of Talia's cousins he doesn't know dashes past him, going after the shooter. Blonde hair… Kate! Fucking Kate just tried to kill Derek's mom! There is one more shot, but thankfully no pained sounds, and then it's all over. Stiles turns around once again to look at the rest of the Hales, to reassure himself that they're okay, opens his mouth to say something but it's like the world is tilting dangerously… it takes him a moment to realize that he's the one not just tilting but downright falling. Talia catches him before he can hit the ground, dropping to her knees with him half on her lap, one of her hands immediately going to his upper chest. He was, indeed, shot. A through and through low on his left shoulder, practically on his chest. Stiles would like to say he's surprised he didn't feel it, but truth is that being able to keep moving even after being shot was something he became very good at… Had become? Will become? What's the tense supposed to be when something happened in what for everyone else is the future, for him is the past, and might never happen? He doesn't even know if he believes in the time-travel theory at all! All he knew was that he had to do something…

Yet again he opens his mouth, he has no idea what he's even going to say, but nothing comes out, nothing but blood. And then the pain finally hits him. It's worse than the last time he was shot in the chest… though that might have something to do with the fact that then he was a fully-grown, fit adult, while right now he's a freaking kid! Can he even survive a GSW to the chest? Then again, the last time the shot killed him in seconds so… Something else occurs to him and he manages to force himself to whisper two words:

"N-no… bit-ting..."

He hopes they managed to understand him, because he just doesn't have the strength to say them again. And while werewolf healing would be awesome right about now, he knows he won't survive the bite. He's a Spark who's already touched the magic of the world. He's 'picked a side' so-to-speak, he cannot change his mind now. If he hadn't used any magic he could have been turned… but if he hadn't used magic he couldn't have broken the mountain-ash lines so… he made his choice and he won't regret it.

The last thing he hears before blackness swallows him whole is a female voice calling for her mom and dad; and while he cannot hear it, he can feel a warmth he knows all to well tickling the edges of his being… it's Derek, he's here… and then Stiles knows no more.

**xXx**

_Stiles Stilinski was never one to think too highly of himself (some might say he didn't think highly enough of himself), he knew who he was, who he's always been. The human, the spaz, the ADHD kid (later on man), the weak one (at least when compared to the bunch of supernatural creatures he used to run with), the so-called liability. He's also the boy who finished a bachelor's degree in three years and went through FBI training in less than six months; but after the mess that were his high-school years he'd have told them that studying for a degree, and later on training to be an agent was almost easy, even with his ADHD making his mind go every which way (to the point that sometimes the Aderall was barely enough to smooth the edges). The biggest complication was when he made a mess of an FBI operation to help Derek, though thankfully, since the rest of the op went just fine, he didn't get in too much trouble._

_The situation with Monroe was bad enough, and the war that followed, which lasted for years, though he and Lydia were mostly kept out of it, with him first in Washington and later on in Virginia and her in Cambridge for years while they went to college and training in their chosen fields (He as Criminologist and later an FBI Agent, Lydia with a double doctorate in Chemistry and Mathematics). They'd go back every so often, but never stayed long. And then things got to the point of no-return._

_Humans can be cruel, Stiles knew that. How could he not when he was tortured by one when he was just a teenager? By a man who was supposed to be a good guy, one of those who protected humanity from the monsters except… except he was the monster. So was it any surprise that so many others turned out to be the same? "Humans fear what they don't understand, and what they fear, they seek to destroy", he didn't remember where he heard, or read that quote exactly, but it fit perfectly with his life. With the way everything just went to shit once the news broke out: "The Supernatural is real!"._

_When he graduated from the FBI he joined a special unit. They all knew the supernatural existed. Some either were supernatural themselves, or closely connected to others that were. Stiles never told them the truth about himself, never trusted them enough for that. They knew what he could do with mountain ash, but that was pretty much a party-trick compared with what he could do when he got in touch with the magic of the Earth, or some other source of power. Until the Catastrophe. He never knew what happened exactly, no one did. There had been an explosion in the preserve, half of the preserve and the town itself had been lost just in the explosion, and the fire that followed took the rest. His dad was gone, Melissa, Chris, Scott, the pups (granted, they were no longer children by then, but still)… the shock was so great Stiles had trouble processing the news for the longest time. Lydia flew in to help him and offer what comfort she could (she'd lost her mom too). Waking up in the aftermath and finding out that the world was blaming the supernatural as a whole didn't make things any better._

_Stiles tried to do something about it. To make his bosses understand that being supernatural didn't mean being a monster. But it was to no avail, and in the end he'd to stop, least they begin to suspect that he wasn't all human. His unit was disbanded and he got reassigned. As did several of his colleagues, others… they just disappeared. Stiles seriously considered leaving; just, handing in his resignation and returning to… well he didn't exactly have a home to return to, but still; Lydia convinced him to stay, that he could do more good from inside the FBI. She herself had finally decided to move in with him, having just finished her Doctorate studies; most of her research work she could do from anywhere in the country, and she knew Stiles needed her. They were all each other had left… at least until the Hales found them._

_They never knew how that happened exactly, how or why they went to them exactly. First Peter, who appeared in the middle of their living room (Stiles had used the money from his father's insurance to buy an old three-bedroom home for himself and Lydia) one afternoon and just didn't leave. Malia appeared next, and she was the biggest surprise, as Stiles and Lydia were half-sure she'd been in Beacon Hills when it went up. Except no, because apparently Scott fell in and out of love very easily, he and Malia hadn't lasted any longer than he and Kira did; and with him dating someone else, and Stiles on the other side of the country Malia hadn't seen a point in staying around. Cora got in touch with Peter to let him know she was on her way back to the States, that some paramilitary group had just attacked her pack in Brazil, more than half died and the rest were forced to scatter to survive. The Hales were all she had left, even if she hadn't believed Derek to be a very good alpha, and never liked Scott, in the end, blood was blood._

_It was during that time, in between too many days in the office doing research (he hadn't been invited for another op since the disbanding of his old unit, and while he didn't know the exact reason Stiles had his suspicions, and none of them were good), and being there for Lydia when she needed him (and while the two of them were still going strong, had been together for years… they just didn't seem to be going anywhere, it was like they'd become stagnant for some reason, like they were missing something, even if they didn't know what). In between all that they began spending time with Peter, Stiles especially, and they learned all the things they never did while in Beacon Hills. All the things they were and could've been… Lydia was a banshee of phenomenal power, but she barely had control, was sure she'd have gone crazy already weren't it for Stiles. As for Stiles… his magic, his so-called Spark… that power was bound in many ways to the Nemeton, both because he was born in Beacon Hills and because of the surrogate sacrifice, though he hadn't known that, no one ever told him, and with it gone… Peter suspected that the nogitsune burned a lot of his potential, that it was what protected him from the kitsune for so long, until he could fight the possession no more. It made Stiles, makes them all, wonder what Stiles could have been if that creature had never possessed him…_

_The talks also allowed them to learn some more about the supernatural. Like the fact that the Hales are an important family, always have been. A pillar of the supernatural community. The first Hales arrived to America along with the very first pilgrims. They met with a tribe of Native Americans who happened to have a gift for shapeshifting, and the firstborn Hale son married the Chief's daughter. That was the origin of the Hale werewolf family. And it wasn't just that they had the power to turn into wolves, but that they inherited the duty to guard the territory, the power in it. They were guardians of the supernatural. The Hale vaults carried knowledge long believed to be lost. Scrolls with the records of alliances and treaties older than the country itself. Information that could secure the future of every single supernatural race… or condemn them all._

_Stiles didn't know how the government found out about the true power the Hales held, or about the vault in Beacon Hills (which Peter knew already survived the explosion at the Nemeton). He just barely found out when they began trying to find any remaining Hales, hunting them; and even that was completely by accident, the memo wasn't meant for him at all… it was still enough. When he saw it he didn't even bother to try and hide his revulsion, or his fury, didn't bother with an official resignation either. He just left his badge and regulation gun in the trash on the way out (not like he needed the gun, he had better ones). He was still in the car when he phoned first Lydia and then Peter, telling them to pack and be ready, they'd run out of time, then he broke the phone apart and threw the pieces out the window, one at a time._

_They always knew the day would come when they'd have to run. When the government would turn against one or all of them. They were ready. Except… Cora never arrived, and when they tried to meet her, they couldn't find her. They'd no idea what happened, Peter strongly suspected she was dead but they didn't know for sure, because she wasn't pack, hadn't been for so long…_

_For a while it was just the four of them. They tried to stay on the move, driving in nondescript cars, changing plates every so often, staying in low-budget motels, eating in simple diners… The one time they grew overconfident… it was a costly mistake. Malia was killed and Peter went completely feral. Because during the last few years he'd finally had the chance he always dreamed of, the chance to be with his daughter, to be her father, and when they took her away… It was like the Hale fire all over again, except much, much worse. Peter growled at Stiles and Lydia to find Derek, and then let the wolf take over. He managed to kill over a dozen agents and soldiers before they took him down. Stiles hated it, but he took the opportunity and ran, Lydia semi-conscious in his arms, crying, biting her lip to keep from screaming for as long as she could, so long that when they finally stopped there was blood on her mouth and her chin from where she bit right through her lip and they were both crying so hard they could barely see where they were going._

_They found Derek three days later… or rather, he found them._

**xXx**

When he opens his eyes to find himself in that weird white not-room he's not even surprised about it, not really. He's a bit surprised about the black tree-stump he's laying on, but not so much because he already knows he's in the past, so the Nemeton being back makes sense… kind of? He's still not entirely certain that he hasn't just, like, gone completely nuts or something. But, crazy people don't worry about being crazy, right? So, him even thinking about it should be enough to reassure him he's not crazy, right? He's no idea!

He spends an unknown amount of time just laying there, thinking about everything and nothing. Most clear in his mind are the memories of the last year of his life. Memories of Lydia, in her dark blouses and washed-out jeans; she used to be more of a skirts and dresses girl, until the need to be constantly in the run made her switch her wardrobe for something less stylish and more functional. Though what he remembers most clearly about her are her dark hazel eyes and her gorgeous hair, which had once been pale red (his strawberry blonde goddess, he remembers he used to call her), only to become redder as the years passed and her powers grew. Bright crimson, the color of freshly spilled blood… And then there are the memories of Derek, in his dark henleys and dark-jeans (at least when he wasn't going around shirtless). Stiles had borrowed his leather jacket and never given it back, in part because he just loved it, loved being enveloped by Derek's woodly scent, and in part because Derek insisted, claiming that Stiles needed it more (the younger man was sure it was the wolf's possessiveness, that he liked seeing both him and Lydia in his clothes… there was a reason why she took to wearing his shirts to sleep, or whenever her top got ruined for whatever reason). He remembers Derek's dark hair, his hazel-green eyes which never stopped reminding Stiles of the preserve, of home, and his beard, which not only looked good on him but the way it felt against his sensitive skin… well!

It takes him a while, but eventually Stiles reaches the conclusion that time isn't running the 'normal' way, while he's in the not-room with the Nemeton. Because at times it's like a very long time passes, and then no time at all. He doesn't feel hungry, or sleepy, or anything at all. One moment he's laying on his back, eyes closed, trying his best not to think, and the next Lydia's there. Only she's not the Lydia he saw last, that day, their last… instead she's a child, and so is he. And then not, they talk, about what he thinks is going on, and then they're grown-ups again. They talk for a while, and then she has to go, and when it's all over Stiles isn't actually sure that any of it even happened. Was she truly there? Did he imagine the whole exchange? Stiles doesn't know; and that, more than anything else, is almost enough to drive him crazy.

That's when things get… strange, or at least strange-er. He's not sure what catches his attention first, he just sits up abruptly, and it's like he's seeing double: he can see the whiteness all around, yet at the same time, as if he were seeing through it or something, he can also see the preserve. For a moment he wonders if it's like that time they did the surrogate sacrifice, when he, Scott and Allison first found themselves in that place, and when they touched the stump they remembered the time they came across it, suddenly knew how to find it. Except not, because he's not seeing himself. Instead he sees an old woman, hair so white and while there are not as many wrinkles on her darkly-tanned skin as Stiles would have expected, he knows she's old, very old, and her eyes… She's the elder Mrs. Hale, Talia Hale's mother: Imala Hale.

Imala's nose twitches, like she's caught a scent, she makes to turn around, but she can't, she's been immobilized. Stiles jumps onto his feet, hand extended, mouth open to call out a warning, but it's already too late. Imala looks down slowly, at the knife embedded in her chest and the dark-skinned hand holding it. She makes to reach for it, but she cannot move. Stiles realizes why a second later: mountain ash, a barrier created so close to her body she cannot even raise her arms, cannot move, cannot do anything to defend herself. The blow to the head comes next, so hard Stiles is sure her skull must have cracked, werewolf healing or not. Imala's roaring, her eyes flashing, gold one moment, brown the next, the injuries taking their toll on her. And then the hand is there again, holding another, smaller, knife, directing it to her throat, slashing right across it almost too fast to see.

Stiles screams in horror and denial, but there's nothing he can do, it's already too late. He doesn't feel the tremor on the ground, all his attention is on the dying werewolf. He feels so awful, wants to look away, yet at the same time he cannot help but think that it'd be dishonorable to do so. Imala Hale deserves better… then again, she also deserves better than to die at the roots of the Nemeton, by the hand of a coward who doesn't even dare look her in the eye when he kills her.

The moment the light vanishes from her eyes the spell seems to break, as Imala's body drops, landing in a heap in between the Nemeton's peaking roots, and it's then that Stiles gets a good look at her murderer…

"Dr. Deaton?!"

His mind actually blanks for a second because, Dr. Deaton? Really?! The man might have been a pain in the ass with his cryptic word-choices and his 'better-than-thou' attitude, and the way he always seemed to leave them with more questions instead of answers, but for him to downright murder one of the Hales… Wasn't he their Emissary?!

It's insane, absolute insane and yet… much as a part of him might still be in denial, there's another that's bringing up memories, reaching conclusions. He remembers something Lydia told him, the one time they sat down and actually talked about the day Beacon Hills was destroyed. She was trying to help him process his grief, accept the losses; he remembers very clearly how she said she felt it, how she screamed Scott's name and then, then she just screamed and couldn't stop. At first he actually wanted to believe it was a sign of hope, that if she'd only screamed Scott's name, maybe that meant that the others were alright, that his dad was alright. Maybe they'd been far away enough from the blast? But no, that had not been the case. The only other possibility they could think of was that Scott had been there, at the Nemeton, when the disaster took place. He was the first to die, seconds before the explosion caught everyone else; that was why he was the only death Lydia could catch separately. But even that hadn't explained why he was there, all alone. Because if he'd been fighting, or even just investigating something, why hadn't the pack been with him? Scott wasn't so stupid as to try and handle things alone, he knew better than that. Except… what if he'd indeed, not been alone? What if he was with someone he trusted, someone he saw as an ally, but wasn't? What if he was with Deaton…?

Suddenly everything makes so much sense. The way Deaton was always avoiding Stiles, never taught him anything. Really, the closest to teaching the man ever did with him was when he gave Stiles the jar of mountain ash and told him to 'be the Spark' what kind of teaching was that anyway?! It was a miracle Stiles managed to make it work at all! And maybe that was it, what if Deaton never intended for it to work at all? The way he kept fighting against Stiles learning to do anything beyond the mountain ash tricks, the way he looked at Stiles whenever he managed to do something else, the way he was always putting down Stiles, saying he'd no real power and needed to stop endangering himself and the whole town… But what if… What if it was never about him being the risk? Or at least not to the town but…? As a Spark, Stiles cannot use magic on his own, he knows that, he needs objects that have magical properties so he can 'activate them' or to draw power from objects and/or places of power, like ley lines… like the Nemeton.

The epiphany hits Stiles with the force of an anvil: Deaton wants the Nementon, has always wanted it. Suddenly so many other things begin to make sense in a terrible, terrifying way. He never understood how Kate managed to be in Beacon Hills for weeks, possibly months, enough to plan the destruction of the Hale fire, and the pack never became aware of things; where had she even gotten the wolfsbane used in the accelerant? Or the mountain ash with which she trapped them? Wolfsbane might have been the norm for hunters, somewhat, but mountain ash? It wasn't easy to acquire, Stiles knows that, not only because Deaton told him, but because he learned that fact himself, when he sought to get some for himself. Also, why did Deaton never try to help Laura? Or Derek? Or even Peter?! Stiles always hated that the man put all his faith in Scott, helped him more than he ever did any of the Hales; as if he hadn't believed them to be worthy yet Scott was… but what if it had never been about that? What if it had always been about using Scott? Because the werewolf pack of Beacon County was connected to the territory's Nemeton, that had been Talia, then when she died Laura, then Peter, Derek… and when he gave up his spark for Cora… then Scott was an alpha. Did Deaton plan that? Did he, from the start, plan to use Stiles's best friend, his brother, to get the Nemeton for himself?! And if so, what went wrong? The answer comes even faster than the question: Scott was never connected to the Nemeton, because he was never the territory's alpha.

Lydia and Stiles never asked Derek how he became an alpha again. It just didn't seem that important in the grand scheme of things. With everything going on, all they'd lost, them on the run for their lives… who cared how Derek's eyes had gone back to red? He was an alpha, and that was that… except maybe not, he wasn't just any alpha, he was Alpha Hale, the alpha of the Beacon County territory, and its Nemeton… and that mattered.

A strange, unexpected tugging pulls Stiles's attention back to the present. He's still standing on the Nemeton, and Deaton's right there on his knees, hands on the peeking, bloodied roots of the blackened stump, on the very spot where Imala's body was. He imagines the tree must have taken her, a sacrifice, as Deaton intended. That realization also lets him know what Deaton's doing. He's using Imala's death, her connection to the Nemeton as a Hale, to try and claim the power of the Nemeton for himself. With the burning of the Hale house, and all the emotional turmoil they are all sure to be in, it's likely the bond will be strained, vulnerable, and Deaton knows it. Stiles can sense the power being pulled out, almost as if it were going straight through him…

"No!" He yells.

Deaton sways, his chanting breaking just for a moment. Stiles blinks, not quite believing it. And then he realizes what's going on: He's connected to the Nemeton. Either because of the time-travel, because of all the power he used to get the Hales out or just… for whatever the reason, he's connected to the Nemeton. It's why he can feel what Deaton's doing… and not just that…

Stiles knows that what he's about to attempt is crazy, beyond crazy, it's absolutely insane, but he believes it can be done, and that's the whole point, isn't it? He extends his hands to the sides, almost without thinking, he doesn't even know what he's expecting exactly, until he gets it. Until he feels as his right hand is entwined with another, held tightly. He turns slightly to the side, and it's as if he were seeing through both the white not-room and the preserve, only it's not quite as clear, as if seeing through a mist. He can see a hospital room, and a body on the bed… his body! And Lydia's there, holding his hand, his physical hand, and he can feel her, just like he can feel a burning high on his back… In contrast his left hand feels so very empty, but he chooses not to focus on that, he has Lydia to tether him to the real world, and for now that's enough. So he turns his whole attention back to Deaton, who's still trying very hard to claim power that was never meant for him.

He screams, it's a non-verbal scream, but that's okay, he doesn't need words, all he needs is intent, to believe… so he focuses all of his self into believing that Deaton can be stopped, that He can stop him…

And then everything seems to explode…

**xXx**

Stiles doesn't know what he's expecting when he wakes… though it certainly isn't what he finds. First, he's in a private room, which he knows that it being the pediatric wing, and with the kind of hospital Beacon's Memorial is (not private or made for rich people), private rooms are extremely rare. He takes stock of his body slowly, and while he knows he going to hate when certain tubes are taken out of certain body-parts, he's surprised to be able to feel his whole body just fine. He doesn't know if it's his Spark, or something else, but he doesn't feel like someone who's been unconscious for an extended amount of time. A time he's forced to mentally revise when he hears a radio or something like that, and a date is mentioned. It's April 24th… April the twenty-fourth! What the hell?! Where did time go? How did he sleep so long? He only vaguely hears the man on the radio talking about a penumbral lunar eclipse, or something like that. He's not really paying attention. He doesn't get the chance to hear more because his sudden change in emotions apparently is enough to make the machines he's connected to pick-up on the fact that he's awake, and the room becomes pandemonium for almost a full hour.

By the time it's all over he learns that the date he heard is correct, he was in a coma for two and a half months, and in the hospital for two weeks before that. He was shot high on his torso, in through the back, had to have surgery to remove a splinter of the bullet that broke off before the rest went out through his chest, and then got complications from aconite poisoning. He's quite surprised when his dad arrives less than five minutes after the doctors begin doing their check-ups. Deputy Graeme, the newest deputy, is with him, and she's the one who takes his statement regarding what happened the morning he was shot:

"I woke up early and like, out of nowhere." Stiles explains, unable to help some fidgeting. "I'd had a dream… I don't remember what it was, but it scared me. I… sometimes I get these night-terrors and… well, I don't always think things through… I have ADHD?" He played up his hesitation, because there was just no way he was going to tell anyone not in the know of the supernatural the truth (he wasn't sure he'd ever tell anyone the truth). "I… I didn't exactly know what I was doing when I went into the preserve. It just… I… running calms me. I didn't even see the time or anything. And then, when I calmed down I noticed the time, and I just knew dad was going to blow a gasket… and then I smelled the smoke… There was a fire, and people were calling for help and… and someone needed to help them! I needed to… I…"

He doesn't even have to fake it when his voice breaks and tears gather in the corners of his eyes. To think that if he'd gotten there just a minute later…

Stiles freezes when he feels the arms around him. In his mind he's only used to two sets of arms enveloping him, and his body… no one's hugged him since shortly after his mom had to stay in the hospital for good, before she began forgetting him, before she screamed at him that he was a monster set out to kill her…

"It's me kid, it's me… you're safe, I'm here, you're safe… I'm here and I promise here is where I'll stay… I promise I'll take better care of you from now on… I promise you kiddo…"

It's his dad, he's hugging him, tight, and he's not wearing his uniform, or smelling of booze, or too much cologne (which he sometimes used to cover the smell of booze). It really is his dad… Stiles loses all control over his emotions, as he twists on himself just enough to be able to bury his face in his father's chest and then he's sobbing, like he's really the kid his body looks like. For the first time since his mom died (the first time around) he's truly letting go and it's so liberating. He ends up falling asleep in his dad's arms.

To Noah everything that's happened in the last three months has been a hell of a wake-up call. He knows he hasn't been the best father since his wife died; before that even, since she asked him to take her to the hospital, for good, because she'd totally forgotten to go pick up their son twice already, had forgotten he was there with her at the supermarket once and almost left him behind; she was afraid that next time someone might take him, or worse. It wasn't easy for him, Claudia… she wasn't just his wife, she was his best-friend, his accomplice, his… everything. They were times when Noah was so sure he should have died with her, because he just couldn't find a way to live without her. Claudia was there for him when no else was, his parents dead, with him having no siblings, he'd never been one to make many friends, and the ones he'd made while in the army… they were either dead or still on duty. Since leaving the army his whole life had revolved around Claudia. Except… except Stiles needed him, his son… Her son.

Noah met Claudia when he was on leave, halfway through his time in Irak. He'd met her on his very first day in Prague, where she was attending college, she wanted to be a preschool teacher. They spent every single day of his two-week leave together and on the last day he placed a little plastic ring he'd gotten in a candy-bag in a fair on her finger, promising to return for her once his tour was over. A year later he was honorably discharged and shortly after that they were married and moving into the old Stilinski family home (which had sat empty since his parents died while he was away at college). He and Claudia were so in love, and they wanted a big family. He'd been an only child, and remembered having felt lonely as a kid; and Claudia, she was the youngest of seven children, though they were all living in Poland, none of them had been exactly supportive of her marrying a military man she'd only known for two weeks and moving with him to another continent. But they loved each other, and they knew they were meant to be… It wasn't easy, the building of a family. They never knew why exactly, they'd wanted to have several children, maybe three or four, and in the end they only got Stiles… after four awful miscarriages, he was their miracle baby, and while he might never have been the most 'normal' of children, he was absolutely perfect in their eyes. Their perfect baby, their son…

He failed them. He failed Claudia. When she ended in the hospital, the last thing she asked: _"Protect him Noah, promise me. Promise me you'll look after our Mischief."_ And he had promised her, he promised her and failed to keep that promise! He failed his son, failed him so badly… he didn't even know he wasn't at home when the Hale Fire took place! He allowed himself to become… lost, after Claudia's death. He loved her so much… he just didn't understand how he was supposed to go on without her. It started with one glass of whiskey, then two and then… he'd just wanted to forget the pain, to put it aside, just for a little while, but it was never enough. He could never forget, could never move on. And how could he when Stiles…? He looked so much like Claudia… he had her eyes, and her moles, and her laugh… and Noah could barely stand to look at him without crying and it hadn't seemed fair. He thought it wasn't fair to Stiles, to have a dad that always cried, just looking at him. So Noah stayed away. Told himself it was only for a little while, only until he could get himself back together… And yet, weeks later, it still wasn't happening. He knew that Melissa had made a habit of picking Stiles up, and making sure there was food in the house, that Stiles was okay… He barely looked in on him in between shifts, never stuck around for long. He didn't even know he wasn't in the house when the call came about the fire and shots fired at the Hale house!

The call came suddenly, out of nowhere. It was so early still. It wasn't the first time that there were disturbances in the preserve, it happened every so often, but a fire? It was January! Fires might be relatively common in California, but that was in the summer, not the middle of winter! And shots? The preserve was protected, it was against the law to hunt there, it was one thing one of the Hale ancestors had fought for many years prior. No one could hunt in their property. So Noah just knew something had to be wrong. He never expected, when he finally made it there, to find the whole house in flames, dead half-charred bodies nearby and his son (his Mischief!) laying on the grass with blood all over his clothes, barely clinging to life…

Noah spent those first two weeks terrified out of his mind, not knowing when his son would wake up, if he ever would. Even the doctors didn't understand what was going on with him! Why he wasn't waking up. There were whispers about something being wrong, words like 'hypoxia' and 'brain damage' and Noah could barely breathe at the possibility that even if his son woke up he might not be his son anymore. He couldn't stand it. And then that awful bomb in the middle of the preserve, the elder Mrs. Hale was missing, as was Dr. Deaton the veterinarian. No one knew what was going on; and then when Noah could finally leave his shift to go see his son he found the hospital was such a mess, and Stiles was in a coma… Noah will never stop thanking God, or whatever other divine being might exist, that his son's alive, and not just that, he woke up, he woke up and he can speak, recognizes him, seems to still be himself… Noah will do better, he'll do right by his son, he promises on Claudia's memory, on their love…

**xXx**

No one understands what happened to Stiles, not even Stiles himself. The lack of atrophy in his muscles is easily explained when Philip arrives the next day to help him with the physical therapy. Something which he's apparently been doing practically since he arrived to the hospital. And it's not even just that, most of the Hales take turns visiting him, just spending time in the room. They're the reason he has a private room, as they insisted on paying for a room, in thanks for him saving them. They've even been looking after his dad! Making sure he eats when he needs to, showers and sleeps every so often, everything. It's almost like… like they're…

"Like we're pack…"

Stiles doesn't even notice he's spoken out-loud until he gets a reply.

"You know, everyone's been wondering if you actually did know about us, or not."

Stiles doesn't even react to Peter's suddenly being there in the room, right at the foot of his bed. Even though he might not have seen him come in, he wasn't entirely surprised either. Also, he became essentially inured what with all the time he spent around Peter in the past (future? Other future? His past? Future Past? Did his life suddenly become a freaking X-Men movie?!)

"Why, because the 'no biting' didn't give it away?" He's a sarcastic shit because that's his default

Peter doesn't seem offended by his reply at all, in fact, he grins with too many teeth at him.

"You don't scare me." Stiles informs him in a completely even tone.

"Oh, don't I?" Peter flashes his eyes at him, letting his fangs drop and his features change just enough that it would shock anyone… or at least anyone who hasn't been around the supernatural as long as he has.

"No, you don't." Stiles tells him in a perfectly calm tone.

Peter might have scared him once, but back then he'd been a feral, half-insane murderous alpha. Afterwards… he won't say that dying and resurrecting cured him of his madness, or of his murderous-tendencies, because it really didn't. But he did mostly recover his sanity, and it showed. Also, whatever Peter might have done those first few weeks Stiles knew him… in the end he gave his life both to avenge his daughter, and to ensure Lydia and Stiles survived, Stiles will be forever thankful to him for that.

Peter opens his mouth to say something else, something dangerous, judging by the glint in his eye, but Stiles raises a hand to stop him before a single word crosses his lips.

"I'm sure you must have a lot of questions, probably everyone does. But I'm also sure you'll understand that's the kind of conversation we should have elsewhere like… maybe somewhere where a bunch of other people won't be listening in?"

Peter closes his mouth with a snap, conceding Stiles is right.

"You're right." He agrees in a genial tone. "I'm sure we'll have a very 'illuminating' talk, when the time comes."

"I'm sure." Stiles replies calmly.

He knows already that'll be one hell of a talk.

**xXx**

It takes two weeks for Stiles to 'persuade' the doctors to send him home. Though in the end truth is that no one can find a reason to make him stay. Despite the fact that he just woke up after three months unconscious, that his heart stopped more than once just in the first two weeks, and he came so close to dying, that most of his doctors were sure there would be some sort of permanent damage… there just seems to be nothing wrong with him. Other than lack of stamina. Even just getting out of bed and going to the bathroom tires him, but that's perfectly normal, and something that will be solved once he works on his physical endurance; he doesn't need to be in the hospital for that. And so, he gets sent home.

It's while his father is signing all the paperwork for his discharge that Stiles finds out that not just the Hales arranged for his private room, but they're also paying all his medical bills. At their own insistence. Stiles is actually more surprised that they could convince his dad of that one… then again, if he remembers correctly, at this point in time his father will still be paying for his mom's hospital bills, and the mortgage, and the several loans he took when they were trying all sorts of new, experimental treatments for his mom… Stiles decides he's going to do something to help with the bills, he has no idea what he'll do, or how, but he'll find a way.

Lydia's standing by the door when Stiles is rolled out in a wheelchair. He extends his right hand and she takes it with her left, neither of them commenting on the way their free hands close and open a couple of times, like some kind of nervous tick.

Noah's taken the day off, which Stiles would never admit, but surprises him greatly. He gets the children in the back of the cruiser and the two take off. Talia, Zach and Peter following in their own car. Noah doesn't comment about Lydia, or about the Hales, he's apparently had time to get used to all of them being around. Stiles is sure that his dad must be blaming himself, thinking that he didn't even notice that Stiles had made friends with Lydia Martin. Lydia Martin! The girl he used to tell his mom and dad he'd marry one day… If he just knew that, until the day before the Hale Fire Lydia didn't so much as know his name. Then again, the both of them were entirely different people the day before the Hale fire…

They arrive to the house to find a delivery-man there waiting for them. Noah's eyes go wide when he sees the bags are from an expensive deli on the next town. However, before he can begin worrying about it he sees Lydia approach the boy and thank him before getting the bags.

"It's all been paid already." She informs the Stilinskis calmly.

She told Stiles during their most recent talks that her dad was still trying to get in touch, to keep some kind of influence with her. Had gone as far as giving her a credit card, the name Lydia Martin printed on the glossy gold surface. And while Lydia might not have any interest on ever choosing the man over her mom, she had no compunction about spending his money. Like she just did for that lunch. Most people will just see it as a girl using daddy's money to buy expensive food; but the two of them know that "Valentina's Bistro" is the closest place that sells all-organic food, and the wolves will definitely prefer that to anything else the kids might have been able to buy, and there's no time for Stiles to cook a full meal for them.

The Hales arrive right after them, and the kids can see the moment when the two wolves' noses twitch at the smell of the food in the boxes. Zach just smiles and thanks them as Lydia and the Stilinskis set the table.

Lydia has decided to keep things simple, the food consists on lots of wraps and sandwiches with fries and salads as side dishes. Everything's delicious and completely organic. Stiles can see his dad's surprise after he takes a very careful first bite out of his meatloaf sandwich (he probably didn't want to risk the wraps, not knowing what was in them exactly), then another and another as he discovers he really likes it. Stiles just smiles to himself as he devours his Thai wrap, his goddess knows what he likes…

They devour the wraps and sandwiches, the wolves eating their fill while at the same time making sure that the humans don't end up still hungry. Peter's eyes narrow at one point and Stiles wonders if he realizes the significance of them all ending satisfied, the fact that if they'd all been human the food would have been just too much… while Talia might be the Alpha, Stiles has a feeling that Peter has always been the more observant one.

After almost an hour they're all finishing their cold teas (from the same deli) and Stiles can feel the tension in the room escalating. Surprisingly enough, its his dad who breaks it:

"I want to thank you again, for what you've done for me and my son son the last few weeks." Noah states, voice gruff with suppressed emotion. "I owe…"

"You owe us nothing Sheriff…" Talia cuts him off abruptly.

Noah stares at her, at a loss for words.

"Noah, please." He murmurs after several very long seconds.

"Noah," Zachery intervenes, more softly than his wife. "What Talia means is that you cannot possibly think you owe us anything. After what your son did for us… He saved all of our lives. The lives of our children… Laura and Derek were out of the house, thankfully. But Cora… the twins… they'd be dead, along with my sister, Peter, all my nieces and nephews, our whole extended family, if it weren't for Stiles…"

"It is us who owe you…" Talia states in a soft, very formal tone.

"No, you don't." It's Stiles who cuts her off then, something he can tell she wasn't expecting. "You don't owe me anything, for there can be no debts between pack."

Peter's eyes narrow, Zachery straightens up abruptly, it's clear that from all three of them, he's the one that wasn't expecting that particular turn to the proceedings. Talia's eyes flash, not quite a challenge, but instinctively seeking to establish her authority nonetheless. Her surprise grows when, while Noah pulls back abruptly, neither of the children react at all.

"What the hell?!" Noah demands.

"Time of truth daddio." Stiles states in a joking tone that's half-faked, then he half-turns to the Hales as he adds. "Full disclosure. No half-truths, no metaphors, no lies, not this time."

"This time?" Zachery parrots, eyes going wide at the implications (though Stiles is quite sure that of all the thing that might be going through his mind, time-travel isn't one of them).

Peter's expression turns sharp, and Stiles can almost see his brain working, his mind making all sort of leaps. Peter was always the most like him in that sense…

"What are you involved in Stiles?" Noah asks seriously.

"So much dad, you've no idea." Stiles doesn't even try to sugarcoat it, he doesn't see the point. "Lets begin with this: the supernatural is real."

"What…?!" Noah is speechless at that.

"I once told you the truth, all of it, you demanded that I stop lying to you, that I stop making up stories, refused to believe what I was telling you… I told you mom would have believed me. And boy was I right!" He shakes his head. "To be fair to you, by that point I'd been lying to you for so long… you lost your position for a while, and it was all my fault, and I couldn't explain things to you, because I was trying to keep you out of it all. Because I was up to my eyebrows with all the supernatural messes going on and I knew better than most just how dangerous it all was, especially for those of us who don't heal almost instantly, and I was so terrified that if you knew what was really going on out there you'd want to do something about it, and you would refuse to stand down even being ridiculously outnumbered and outgunned, and if you did that, you were going to end up dead and I couldn't lose you! If there's one thing that's always terrified me it's losing you, I already lost mom! I… I cannot…"

"Oh kid…" Noah stands from his chair and then pulls his son out of his, embracing him tight.

The two stand there for almost a full minute, just embracing each other tightly. It's until Stiles manages to get himself back under control that they realize that the Hales have moved to the living room, most likely Lydia's doing.

"I promise I believe you kid, I trust you." Noah murmurs quietly as he presses his son against his side briefly. "I always will."

"I know." Stiles replies, and indeed he does, as bad as things got, even after the nogitsune and everything else, his dad never stopped believing in him.

"So, your mom would have believed you then?" Noah snorts even as he says it. "Doesn't surprise me. She believed in a great many things."

"It wasn't just a matter of believing." Stiles admits as they walk into the living room. "Mom knew, she was part of it all too."

"Claudia Stilinski…" Talia's voice saying that name made both Stilinskis raise their heads. "I should have realized."

"You knew my mom?" Stiles wasn't aware of that, Peter, the other Peter, never told him.

"You're a Spark…" Talia breathes out, as if things suddenly are beginning to make sense.

"What's a Spark?" Noah asks, eyes narrowed.

"It's a sort-of magic user." Stiles tries to explain without confusing his dad further. "The lowest on the scale really. A spark is just that, they can ignite things, but usually they don't have any power of their own. They need tools, talismans, objects and/or places with power. Living here, mom could have done quite a few things, if she'd had the blessing of the local guardians, and been allowed to tap into the Nemeton."

"We tried." Talia points out. "I invited her to be our Emissary, after our old one retired, she assisted us for a year or so, began learning the ropes… but then she… she lost her baby, and after that she didn't want to know anything about it."

"She thought the Nemeton was the reason for her miscarriage." Peter states softly.

Stiles opens his mouth to say it's not possible, then he closes it again because… he doesn't know. He just doesn't know if such a thing is possible. When was the Nemeton poisoned anyway? When was it cut down? Is there a chance that those things might be connected? Not just with each other, but with his mother's miscarriages? A part of him really wants to know, he's just curious by nature, but there's another part of him that doesn't see the point to reopening old wounds. It'll change nothing.

"That's probably not what we should be focusing on." Lydia offers.

"No, it's not." Zachery agrees.

"What's your role in all of this, Miss Martin?" Peter asks, eyes narrowed, missing nothing. "I mean, the young Mr. Stilinski saved us, and he's a spark, we're wolves," in the background Noah gasps, and Stiles facepalms because they hadn't gotten to that part yet, but as always, Peter's one who'd rather march to the beat of his own drum, "but what are you?"

Lydia's own eyes narrow in turn, but before she can give Peter a very hands-on answer, Stiles places a hand on her shoulder.

"She's my everything, and that's enough." Stiles says simply.

"Very well," Peter agrees with fake cheer. "Lets go back to you then. You saved all of our lives, you saved my son's life, my baby boy, all I have left from my beloved Olivia. I'll be forever grateful to you for that, young one. But I need to know, why did you do it?"

For a handful of seconds no one says a thing. Talia looks like she wants to smack her brother, though at the same time she cannot help but want to know the answer as well. What surprises everyone, is Stiles's response.

"So you really have always been like this." Stiles snorts. "I'd wondered. Though I suppose that's why we've always gotten along so well… when we're not trying to kill each other at least." Peter opens his mouth to say something (probably something cutting) but Stiles just ignores him and keeps on talking. "Fifteen weeks ago… and I need you to bare with me, listen to my heart closely as I explain things because you're not going to believe a word of it, but I assure you, every word I'm about to say is true. Fifteen weeks ago I woke up in an old, abandoned Lake House, on the other side of the preserve from what used to be Beacon Hills. I was with the two most important people in my life: Lydia, and our m… alpha. And we were all that remained of the Hale Pack. We'd been running for months, ever so slowly making our way back here. The plan was simple. Get into the vault, find anything that might be useful and get out. We hoped to be able to get out and as far south as we possibly could before the government realized we had even been in California at all. We were so sure they weren't expecting us, that they'd bought the false trails we left that lead to Canada… And besides, whatever else might have happened, Beacon Hills was still our territory, we believed we knew the preserve better than anyone else left alive… We were wrong." His voice breaks briefly and he has to force himself to calm down, least he get lost in the memory of that awful day. "When we heard our… alpha howling, it was already too late. We still went after them, tried to get them back, because what else were we supposed to do? Run?" He scoffs, his tone turning dark. "It was all we'd done for over a year, since the government turned on us all, since they realized how important the Hales were and began hunting us all down, one by one, until we were all that was left. One wolf, and two Others… We…"

He breaks off, he cannot say it, he just cannot.

"We were too late." Lydia murmurs, voice soft but with a core of steel, just like her. "We could do nothing except watch as they killed them. Our Alpha, our… they were all we had left. The loss, it broke us. Stiles was so furious he couldn't think clearly anymore and me… I was lost, in fury, in grief, and all I could do was scream…"

She opens her mouth in a silent scream, there's sound just for a fraction of a second, but even that is enough to make the air all around her vibrate, several strands of her red hair beginning to turn white, until Stiles's hand on her arms breaks the tension and she relaxes, her whole body sagging as she instinctively curls into Stiles, who's sat on the couch beside her.

"You're a banshee…" Peter whispers, awed.

"What you're saying…" Zachery has no words to express himself.

"They found us when Lydia began screaming," Stiles takes over finishing the story. "But we didn't care about any of that. I'm not sure we truly cared about anything anymore by that point. We had nothing left… All we could do was make a last stand, fight and take as many with us as we could. I remember vaguely seeing someone raise a gun, aiming it at Lydia's back, I shielded her with my body, was just processing that, when I heard her scream break off. I knew it was pointless. That was not a fight we could win, and what would the point have been anyway? The last thing I remember is wishing we had another chance, thinking I could do better…" Lydia's the one to offer her support then, as she holds one of his hands in one of hers, very carefully not looking at her other hand, or his own. "Next thing I knew I was waking up in my bed, in a room I hadn't been in in years, that hadn't existed in years. I had no idea what was going on, my mind working a mile a minute. And then I heard Lydia scream, and my magic… the same I was supposed to have lost… I didn't know what I was doing, just followed my instincts… and ran. I ran out of my house, through the preserve, until I made it to your house. It was until then I began realizing that somehow I wasn't dead, or hallucinating, or dreaming, I somehow managed to time-travel… well, that last one I wasn't fully convinced of until I woke up in the hospital a couple of weeks ago." He shrugs. "Didn't stop me from doing all I could."

"Why?" Peter presses.

"Why? Really?!" Stiles snaps. "I tell you all that. Fucking tell you that I died, that I lost everything and everyone and you're still not convinced of my intentions?!"

"You could be lying." Peter insists.

"That's why I told you to listen to my fucking heartbeat!" Stiles roars.

And his dad must be really affected by it all because he hasn't said a thing about Stiles's cussing.

"Fine, you want more proof?!" He lets go of Lydia and jumps to his feet, tearing at his clothes almost maniacally, until he manages to take off his shirt, then he spins around, showing his back to everyone in the room.

There's a sharp inhale as the Hales notice exactly what he wanted them to see. It's not the scar close to his shoulder, just over his right shoulder-blade. It's small and round. The one on the front, on his chest it's worse, not just because it's the exit, but because it's where the doctors had to open him up to deal with the broken rib, punctured lung, and to get the sliver of bullet once they realized it'd broken inside him. No, what he's showing them is the mark in the middle of his back, the size of his fist, not quite as dark as a tattoo, but darker than the moles scattered across his body, mostly on the right side. It's a Triskele…

"Why do you have our symbol on your back?" Talia asks, her voice quiet but with an edge that Stiles cannot quite interpret, it's like a mix of pride, and love and honor, and horror he cannot truly parse out and it confuses him.

"Because it's our symbol too." Lydia offers quietly as she stands beside Stiles, her right hand over his mark, her left in his right one. "For obvious reasons I'm not about to take my clothes off in front of you all. But I'll tell you I have the same mark in the same spot on my own back. I don't know why they came back with us, but they did. They appeared on our backs the day after we woke up in this time. I think it might be because of what they symbolize. Our Alpha… it was their symbol, to them it represented the pack. When we came together we decided to get the same tattoo, to show we belonged together, that we were all… pack. As for them… they once told us that they got the tattoo when they were young, after they lost most of their pack… your pack…"

Talia's roar is sudden and very, very loud. All the power and authority expected of the strongest alpha in North America echoing around them. Stiles can feel the roar to his very bones, a part of his head demanding that he bare his neck, that he submit to the alpha, though there's another part of him that wants to fight back, to challenge her, because she's not his Alpha, she's not…

In the end he does neither, he refuses to submit to her, but he doesn't challenge her either, just keeping his eyes lowered, Lydia tightly by his side.

"What the hell?!" Noah demands, jumping to his feet the moment the roar cuts off and instinctively reaching for the gun he doesn't have on him, because he took the day off and thus it's in the safe.

Almost at the same time the phones of all three Hales are ringing, probably the pack wanting an explanation for what just happened. Peter answers his and spends several minutes assuring someone on the other end that there's no danger, that they don't need to rush to the Stilinski place. Zach's busy anchoring his mate, helping her find her balance once again. At the same time he cannot help but feel in awe of the two children who, despite having just had an Alpha practically roar in their faces, are still standing there, not defying her, but not submitting either. That, if nothing else, convinces him that those are no normal children, and not just because the boy's a Spark and the girl a banshee, but because it takes very special individuals to be able to stand up to an Alpha of his mate's caliber. He might not be a wolf himself, but he knows.

**xXx**

The Hales leave as soon as they all calm down enough not to shift before unknowing humans, and after Peter's managed to calm down those back at… wherever it is they're staying while the new house in the Preserve gets built. Lydia's mom picks her up half an hour later, she wanted to stay longer but Stiles manages to convince her that he'll be alright. He knows that she doesn't fully believe him, she knows him better than to take his reassurances at face value, knows how much he tends to bottle-up things, to hide his hurts from others… but she also realizes that he wants the chance to talk to his dad, just the two of them, and she accepts that. While she might not be willing to bring her mom into the fold, Stiles cannot not be honest with his dad.

It took him a while, but eventually Stiles realized what a huge mistake it had been, keeping things from his dad for so long. Good as his intentions might have been, in the end all his actions did was hurt the both of them, they got so close to losing their trust in each other for good, and Stiles knows (though it cost him to admit it) that much as he might have wanted to protect his dad, ignorance isn't truly safety. Just like humanity wasn't, not for him. Gerard still took him, tortured him, other hunters still went after him. Because whatever Codes they might claim to live by, truth is that in the end most of them don't really care. Chris and Allison were different, and even they made mistakes, even they turned against the pack at least once (nevermind them deciding to keep Gerard alive after all he did, after all the lives he destroyed; Stiles is quite sure he must be connected to the government ever finding out just how important the Hales were, either him or Deaton, and the pseudo-Druid cared too much about power, about keeping it to himself, to work well with others). So no, things like innocence and humanity are no protection, they aren't living in a fairy-tale after all. The Darach went after his dad! He'd barely known what was going on at the time, hadn't truly believed any of it. How different would it have been if he'd been better informed? Better prepared? Much as he knows there's no point to what ifs… then again, he's managed to travel twenty years into the past so…

"I love you," His dad says the moment they're completely alone. "You know that, right?"

"I know." If there's something Stiles has never doubted, it is that.

"I… I don't know all you might have lived through, though, from what you've told thus far, I've no doubt that my mistakes were many…"

Stiles cannot stand it. Cannot stand his dad putting himself down like that, and he knows it's in part his fault. No, his dad isn't blameless, but then again, neither is Stiles.

"No!" Stiles cuts him off. "I mean, yes, mistakes were made, but they were made by both of us."

"If I got to the point where I didn't believe in you…"

"You didn't believe me when I said something that, based on everything you'd known your whole life, should have been impossible. That's something entirely different to you not believing in me. You never stopped believing in me. Even with all my lies, and my escapades, all the ways I kept putting myself in danger and putting you in danger, even when I got you fired! It might only have been for a short time but still! You never stopped believing in me, never stopped loving me. When I was taken… even before that, when the Wild Hunt came, everyone forgot me… even you forgot me for a little while. But even then you kept fighting against it. You fought and fought, you and Lydia, until you beat the magic. And Lydia… well, lets be fair, she's a banshee, she had a certain advantage. But you… you're entirely human, and even then, there's just a strength to you that allowed you to fight against a power so great that no one before had been able to beat it. And you did it for me…"

"Of course I did." Stiles knows that his dad has no idea what Stiles is even talking about, not fully, not in details, but the basics, yeah, those Noah does get. "You're my son!"

And in the end, that really is enough.

In the following days they talk more about things. Stiles gives him a very basic overview of the other life he lived, avoiding giving him any names other than Lydia's. It's not that he doesn't trust his dad, not at all, but he just knows that he's the Sheriff, and he's a good man. As such, his dad will never be able to stand knowing something bad is going on, and not doing something about it. And even if Stiles were able to convince him to let him handle it, somehow, his dad just wouldn't be able to help but treat certain people differently (the Argents, and Mr. Lahey come to mind). In the end, the Sheriff does understand why his son holds back those details and doesn't press, just asks his son to let him know if there's anything he can do to help. That prompts a round of hugs that lasts for a long, long while.

It's not that the Stilinskis weren't already a caring family, because they are, though ever since the loss of Claudia, less so. Stiles knows that in due time they'd have gone back to hugging, not quite as often as when his mom was around, but enough for any human. Yet after having been part of a pack, Stiles has gotten used to a level of tactile contact that is considerably above what most humans may be used to. And it's not just embraces and sometimes pats on the back or the shoulder, but even the simplest of touches: a slight brush as one of them walk past the other, placing a hand briefly on an arm, or a leg, when they pass by, even just purposefully brushing the other's hand when handing something over. Noah doesn't really understand what's prompted the change, or why it's all so important, but he doesn't care either, he just follows his son's lead. Truth is, he finds he likes it as well, it allows him to feel closer to his son, like he hadn't been since Claudia first became sick, and that makes him very happy indeed.

"I don't think I want to go down the same path I did, the first time around." Stiles states one day, in the middle of dinner.

They've made a point of having dinner as often as possible, which means whenever Noah doesn't have a double, even when he has a night shift, they simply have dinner early. He also makes sure not to schedule doubles for himself unless he really needs to. As far as Noah's concerned, time-traveling aside, he's been given a second chance with his son, to truly know him, be the father he needs, and he's not going to squander it.

"Where's this coming from?" Noah asks, eyes narrowed. "Does it have something to do with Lydia bringing you all that paperwork? Her wanting you to skip grades, with her?"

"A bit." Stiles shrugs carelessly. "And technically only she'd be skipping 'grades' in plural. I'd only be skipping one, the one I'd have been taking if it weren't for… well, everything that's happened lately."

"Yeah, but since you're also planning on taking high-school classes, that'd put you further ahead of all your peers." Noah points out, then shakes his head. "You know you don't have to do it, right? Any of it. The skipping grades, the extra classes…"

"Actually I kind of do. Otherwise I'm going to be extremely bored… and neither of us wants that. While the special teas and moving meditation might help me not depend on the Aderall anymore to control my ADHD, it's still not a good idea for me to be bored, you do not want to know the kind of things I do when I need to entertain myself."

"Oh, I know." Noah snorts. "Mrs. Reynolds's dogs come to mind."

"Those poor dogs deserved to be free!" Stiles exclaims, his thoughts completely derailed for the time being, as he remembers that.

"Maybe, but they were still dogs, not wolves." Noah points out with a smile.

Mrs. Reynolds was an old divorcee who fancied herself a dog-breeder. She'd had a couple of Siberian Huskies, the female pure white, the male a mixed black and gray. Apparently the first time the female had pups it'd been entirely by accident. She hadn't known the dogs weren't 'fixed' when she got them from a friend. She hadn't wanted to look after the puppies, had apparently intended to give them away or something, until someone offered her money for one of them, over a thousand dollars. And so she got it into her head to not just sell that batch, but to have more and sell those too. The problem was, while a lot of kids might love puppies, that doesn't mean their parents will agree with them. Also, Beacon Hills isn't that big a town. So a moment came when there were no people left who wanted to buy the puppies, not in their town, or in the rest of the County. And Mrs. Reynolds might have liked the older dogs, she kept them basically as guard-dogs, but she had no patience for the puppies. Stiles had seen her screaming at them, even hitting one once. And he got it into his head to 'free the poor puppies'.

Truth was, Stiles did know they weren't wolves. He wasn't stupid. Even as a seven-year-old child he'd known. The whole 'wolves' thing was just his excuse when he was caught in the process of 'liberating' them. Since hunting was forbidden in the area and all that. Even the Hales had gotten involved. Far as Stiles remembers, they were the ones to arrange for homes for all the puppies, and even the older dogs, the female who'd needed help, as so many pups in such a short time wasn't a good thing. Especially because, as Mrs. Reynolds didn't actually know about breeding, she hadn't looked after her, or the male dog, as she should have.

Father and son chuckle for a bit longer, before Stiles manages to focus once again on the original topic of conversation.

"You know, for the longest time all I wanted was to be like you," Stiles murmurs softly. "To uphold the law, to catch the bad guys… I had what I thought was a perfect plan for that. I'd study Criminology in College, somewhere, anywhere I could get a free ride… or at least as cheap as possible. Then I'd come back, become a Deputy and, who knows? Maybe in due time I might even get to be Sheriff, just like you."

"I'm sure you'd have been great at it, son." Noah assures him.

"No, I'd have been awful." Stiles states, dead-honest. "Granted, I never actually worked for you, was never a Deputy. When the FBI made me an offer… lets just say it was too good to resist. They paid my way through college, at George Washington University, in DC. I went straight from there to Quantico for FBI training, and from there to one of their top-secret units, one that dealt with the Supernatural. I thought it was perfect, that I'd get to do what I'd always wanted, work for justice, and I'd even get to use what I knew of the supernatural… It didn't take me long to realize that that job just wasn't for me. I want to protect… but I don't want to wait for others to give me permission to do what I know needs to be done. Waiting means wasting time, time when innocents might be dying, or worse… I want to protect, I want to bring justice, but I've come to realize that the human justice system just isn't enough, not for the supernatural." He sighs. "I suppose that's the reason Hunters exist in the first place, even if so many of them, at least in this continent, have gotten to the point where they've become part of the problem rather than the solution to it." He shakes his head. "In any case, I've realized, I cannot do it again. I won't be joining the FBI."

"That's okay, it's your life, you get to choose what to do with it, son, always. And you know, even if you don't go down that route, that doesn't mean you cannot be a Deputy."

"Maybe, but what happens when there's a supernatural crime and I'm forced to 'clean up' the scene to protect us all from being found out by the human authorities? You… you've no idea, cannot know how bad things got… It cannot happen again. Mundane humans, especially the authorities, cannot find out that the supernatural exists. And I will always feel bound to protect that, to protect Us… it wouldn't be fair to you, or to the Department."

"Like I said, it's your choice. And you don't have to make it now, even with your accelerated studies it'll be a few years before you have to choose a college." He approaches his son an embraces him from the side. "I will always be proud of you son, whether you're a deputy, a teacher, or a cashier in the diner downtown. I will always be proud to be your dad."

"I'm proud to be your son too, daddio." Stiles smiles, pressing the side of his head against his dad's chest briefly.

He might have no idea what he's going to do with his life this time around, but that's okay, he has time to make up his mind.

**xXx**

The day of the next new moon Stiles and Lydia arrive to the Hale House just in time for lunch. It's probably a good thing that, with them taking the exams to graduate elementary early and move on to middle-school the teachers don't really expect them to actually be in class anymore. Otherwise there's no way they could have made it, considering it's Monday… and Stiles isn't sure how he'd have explained that to Peter… not like he was actually given a chance to explain, or ask questions, or anything at all.

Almost a month since getting out of the hospital, and since the rather tense meeting with the three elder Hales, Stiles had all but given up on them, until Peter unexpectedly showed up in his room at an ungodly hour of the morning.

_The sound of something touching his windowsill woke him up… or rather, it wasn't the sound exactly, merely the touch. Because one of the first things Stiles did when he realized the kind of power he had this time around was set the best wards he could think of around his house. Nothing so simple as mountain ash, and not just because he doesn't want to keep werewolves out specifically, but because he knows there are a lot of individuals and 'things' a lot more powerful than any werewolves, who an ash circle will do nothing to. He felt it the moment someone stood on the windowsill and moved to get in and reacted instinctively, a wave of his hand and what usually looks like a decorative glimmering statue on his night-table broke apart into dust and flew towards the newcomer. It's actually a mix of mountain ash, mistletoe, very light strains of wolfsbane, foxglove and vervain; all in all a mix that should be able to stop pretty much anyone. His senses fully came online a fraction of a second later, allowing him to identify the newcomer as none other than Peter Hale. So he raised his hand just in time to stop the 'dust' from hitting Peter straight in the face (it wouldn't have killed him, but it would have been quite uncomfortable to say the least). The werewolf went into Beta shift and hissed upon catching the very light scent of wolfsbane and mistletoe; even as the dust returned to the night-table and its statue-like shape._

" _Wha...at?!" Stiles snapped, voice breaking in the middle as he couldn't hold back a yawn. "You break into my place at fuck o'clock in the morning and… what were you expecting? A welcoming party? And really, I knew you were a Creeperwolf, but might I remind you my father's the sheriff, and he has wolfsbane bullets, he'll shoot your ass if he knows you're doing shit like this."_

" _Aren't you a little young to have such a potty mouth?" Peter asked in a sassy tone._

" _Fuck you," Stiles snapped for good measure. "What do you want Peter? I wasn't joking about the time. And I was actually sleeping too!"_

_Peter did look a tiny bit contrite at that, but didn't admit it._

" _Lunch tomorrow at the new Hale House." He stated gruffly after several seconds._

" _Huh?" Stiles wasn't joking about the time, or him truly being asleep (it's such a rare thing!). "Peter… I don't have the time or the inclination to understand…"_

" _We're having lunch tomorrow at the new Hale House and you're coming." Peter informed him, then turned around to leave the way he came, he was halfway out when he looked over his shoulder and, almost as an after-thought, added. "And bring your banshee girlfriend!"_

The little meeting had rattled Stiles enough that he couldn't go back to sleep. So he decided to take a long shower, prepared breakfast for himself and his father; then, when he could hold back no more, he phoned Lydia. She was still angry at him for waking her up, but she was also understanding and went to see him. Kept him company as he spent most of the day running around the kitchen, preparing batch after batch of dark-chocolate brownies. When his dad arrived that night, he felt so bad for clogging the house with the smell of chocolate that he even allowed him to have two (two!).

It was Tara who picked them up the next day at school, right after he and Lydia were done with that day's test. His dad wanted to be there but he couldn't get out of work at the time, Stiles understood and was grateful for Tara's help. Tara also made him promise that they'd call if they needed a ride home before his dad finished his shift and went to pick them up.

So there they are, standing on the drive of the new Hale House. Stiles is so nervous he doesn't know how to do it, how to actually go up those steps and knock on the door. The old, burnt, half-collapsed house was very much in his mind as he watched the gorgeous piece of architecture (more mansion than house really) standing before him in that moment. He's sure that if Lydia weren't there, holding his hand and keeping him anchored to reality, he wouldn't be able to do it, actually going in…

He takes a deep breath, reassuring himself that he still has the box with the many, many brownies he baked on Sunday, and is just about to set boot on the first step onto the porch, when a voice interrupts his thoughts:

"Do you plan on standing out here all day?" Peter finally asks.

Stiles refuses, absolutely refuses to give Peter the satisfaction of knowing he's managed to surprise him. He opens his mouth to say something sarcastic, but Lydia (awesome Lydia!) is ahead of him:

"Well, it's not like we actually know what we're doing here so…" Lydia drawls.

Peter opens his mouth to say something, but before he can he's being pushed aside by Mandy, her Californian blonde hair in a loose braid that day.

"What do you mean you don't know what you're doing here?" Mandy demands and Stiles could actually laugh at the honest-to-god stink-eye she throws Peter's way. "Peter was supposed to visit you yesterday and invite you both to lunch with us today?"

"Yeah well, if by 'visit' you mean he let himself into my bedroom through the window at an unholy hour on a Sunday, and by 'invite' that he let me know we were to be here for lunch today, then I suppose that's what he did." Stiles knows that saying all that is likely to get Peter in trouble and he's not ashamed at all for it.

"Peter!" Mandy cries out, honestly scandalized.

"You'll take their side Mandy, dear?" Stiles can hardly believe it when Peter whines (he would have never imagined Peter actually making a noise such as that!). "I'm the one who almost got killed yesterday morning!"

"That's what you get for jumping into my bedroom, uninvited and unannounced, before dawn! You're lucky I recognized you in time." Stiles mutters pointedly, before adding a bit more quietly. "Creeperwolf…"

The laughter coming from inside the house lets him know that he's correct about his suspicion of several wolves eavesdropping. Also, he's not at all ashamed of what he just said!

"Creeperwolf, oh, that's gold, pure gold!" Mandy crows in delight. Then she seems to remember herself and straightens up. "I'm Amanda Silva, though my friends call me Mandy, so feel free to do so. The Creeperwolf," she stops a bit to let out another giggle, "is my brother-in-law. Welcome to the Hale House."

He and Lydia follow Mandy through the house and straight out the back, where Talia and Peter are setting up different foodstuffs, while Philip carries the plates and plastic cups (Stiles realizes glass ones are probably a bad idea around werewolves, especially growing ones), Cora has napkins and cutlery in her hands and… that's it. Stiles freezes on the edge of the back-porch, so suddenly even Lydia staggers a bit, though she's also the first (if not the only one) to realize the reason for his shock: Laura and Derek are nowhere to be seen…

"Is anyone else coming?" Lydia asks in a very neutral tone.

"No, not really, why do you ask?" Zach asks politely.

"Oh, I was just wondering if we'd brought enough brownies."

Stiles only half hears what's being said, though at Lydia's discreet pull he does hold out the box with brownies he was still keeping under his arm. There's a sort of white-noise in the back of his head. So bad he can't think clearly. Is very thankful for Lydia as she leads him to the table and makes small talk with the Hales while he recovers, without calling attention to the fact that something's off with him. And he knows it cannot be easy for her either, if his heart is breaking, then so will be hers, but since it is Lydia she won't allow anyone to see it, not even him…

In the end all they can do is hold hands under the table, supporting each other, like they always have. Their third might be gone, but they'll never let go of one another, not for anything…

Everyone falls over his brownies like a pack of wolves (and Stiles cannot believe his mind truly went there, he's almost ashamed of himself… almost). Mandy's practically moaning at the taste, and Peter looks at him in a way that Stiles just knows that if he were any older Uncle Bad-Touch would be making an appearance. Stiles cannot help himself, he smirks straight at Peter.

"Why are you looking at Peter like that?" Mandy questions, curious.

"Like what?" Stiles asks, turning his attention to her, and focusing on looking as innocent as he can, he doesn't realize he's actually using a bit of magic to aid him until Lydia kicks his ankle and he lets that go.

"Oh… I don't know what you were just doing but… how were you doing that?" Mandy asks, blinking and shaking her head a little, as if shaking off the mental cobwebs.

"I'm sorry, my control's still a tad iffy." Stiles admits sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck. "Though to be fair, I'd never had access to this much power, so that might be why. I'm having to relearn a lot of what I knew…"

"What are you talking about Stiles?" Zach asks.

Stiles looks around, making sure that the children (the rest of the children) are off playing and not paying attention to any of them.

"How much do you know about the Nemeton that used to be in the Preserve, about the purpose it served for the territory and the planet as a whole?" Stiles asks in a very solemn tone.

"Used to…?" It becomes clear straight away that Mandy knows nothing, but then again, Stiles never expected her to.

"How do you know the Nemeton is gone?" Peter asks, eyes narrowed.

"Because I was there when it was lost." Stiles answers evenly.

"That's not possible." Zach shakes his head. "You were at the hospital when that happened. You were… that was the day you went into a coma wasn't it?"

"Hell of a coincidence…" Peter mutters coldly.

"No coincidence at all." Stiles shakes his head. "And yes, physically I was still at the hospital, spiritually… that's an entirely different matter. The Nemeton called to me."

"Why you?" Talia is clearly fighting between feeling worried about him, and suspicious.

"Because I qualified as a guardian for the freaking tree." Stiles rolls his eyes. "Because my being a Spark means that I could connect to it. Or no, it's not that I 'could connect' but rather that I was connected to it, always. I think it might be because I was born here, or something. I didn't realize it the first time around because… well, I didn't know about any of it."

"We used to think he had the devil's luck." Lydia admits with a quiet snort. "Surviving so much. And the way he came up with the most insane plans, and somehow always managed to make them work, against any and all odds."

"Hey! My plans were excellent!" Stiles cries out dramatically with a pout that, in his child's face and body, actually makes him look adorable.

"You drove your Jeep, which was barely held together with duct tape, into a warehouse, through a freaking wall." Lydia reminds him, then turns to the others as she adds. "And I probably should add that it was a warehouse that held no less than two insane hunters, a bunch of immature and not-fully-trained bitten wolves and a kanima!"

"A kanima!" Peter sounds half-curious, half-horrified at the prospect.

"Hey! It worked!" Stiles points out, arms crossed.

"Like I said, the devil's luck." Lydia snorts.

"Anyway, that wasn't the point." Stiles shakes his head to focus on things once again. "The point is, I didn't know what I was back then, not really."

"Didn't anyone train you?" Talia asks, worried.

"Aside from a very unhelpful druid telling me to 'be the spark' and very general instructions on how to lay a mountain ash circle, no, no training." Stiles shrugs.

"That's dangerous." Peter says.

"Probably, but not actually relevant in this timeline so, moving on." Stiles snarks. "I left Beacon Hills after graduating high-school, and while I did come back every once in a while as necessary. I didn't live here anymore, so I wasn't truly connected to the Nemeton anymore. I was nowhere near when it was destroyed, along with most of Beacon Hills."

"What?!" Mandy blanches and the other three adults look about ready to do battle.

Even Philip and the children look up briefly, but after an order from their Alpha they go back to their games once again.

"How could something like that happen?" Zach asks, horrified.

"What the fuck happened?! is the question." Peter corrects gruffly.

Talia says nothing, just flashes her red eyes, clearly fighting against her wolf's desire to fight.

"The very thing that almost happened in this timeline, a few months ago." Stiles admits grimly. "A pseudo-druid tried to claim the power of the Nemeton for himself, and failed." He shakes his head sadly. "The difference was that, in the other time, when his ritual failed and the Nemeton overloaded, there was nowhere for that energy to go, so it blew up. Destroying a good deal of the preserve and part of the town straight out, and starting a fire that destroyed almost the whole county. No one in the area survived." He pauses, taking deep breaths and brushing away the tears he cannot fully hold back. "In this timeline though, when the ritual started the Nemeton reached out, and it found me. I found myself spiritually transported to it. Where I had to use my will and my Spark to battle for the right to connect with the Nemeton. I didn't actually know what I was doing, it was all instinctive. Also, I didn't actually get there in time to stop the ritual from starting, in the end all I could do was make sure He wouldn't get what he wanted, and that we wouldn't all die when the whole thing backfired on him."

"What happened to you?" Talia asks, already half-suspecting the answer.

"Do you know what the purpose of a Nemeton is?" Stiles asks in turn.

"I was taught by my grandmother's Emissary that they're powerful entities, they filter the energy and the magic of the world." Talia answers evenly.

"That's correct." Stiles nods. "They're essentially the kidneys of our planet. Our pseudo-druid thought the Nemeton actually held power, like a battery, that wasn't the case. Still, the Nemeton was needed to filter the energy, purify it… well, at least that's what a healthy Nemeton does. The one here in Beacon Hills hadn't been healthy for many years… The point is, the ritual that the pseudo-druid intended would have never worked, because he never understood what a Nemeton truly is."

"You keep saying pseudo-druid, why?" Mandy asks, confused.

"Because while he might have called himself a druid, he wasn't one, not really." Stiles shakes his head with an exhale. "To be honest, I never liked the bastard. Too cryptic, evasive, would never give a straight answer, and the way he clearly believed himself to be better than us… It was until I was in college that I realized just how much he'd kept from us." He curls up slightly, feeling the weight of so many mistakes, so many wrongs left unsolved. "We trusted him, because he was supposed to be a scholar, a druid, an Emissary…"

"Deaton?!" Peter snarls, fury rising in an instant. "Alan Deaton did this? Betrayed us?! I'll kill him! I'll tear his throat out…!"

Oliver's loud wail is what pulls Peter out of his furious rant, as he reacts instinctively to his son's crying, letting go of all that anger in an instant and going to the little boy, picking him up and focusing on soothing him. Stiles waits just long enough to make sure Peter won't go nuts in an instant again before giving in his two cents:

"I'm afraid it's kinda late for any of that Peter, he's already dead."

"What?" All eyes turn back to the kid instantly.

"The ritual backfiring killed him." Stiles shrugs. "Not that I regret it or anything. I… I'm not sure if you're aware of this but… he killed Mrs. Hale… Mrs. Imala Hale, I mean."

Talia says nothing, but Stiles can almost see the tears at the corners of her eyes.

"We know," Zach nods, then revises. "Well, we didn't know what had happened, exactly. But we knew that she'd been close to the Nemeton when she died, and suspected that whatever happened there was related."

"Deaton was responsible." Stiles says what they've all realized already. "He sacrificed her, intending to use that, and your weakened connection to the Nemeton, due to the fire, to get his ritual to work. He failed."

"Because of you." Zach finishes for him.

"No, the ritual was always going to fail, I told you." Stiles corrects. "What I did was make sure that the backfire didn't kill us all."

"What happened then?" Mandy asks. "If, as you say, the Nemeton is so important, so necessary, and it doesn't exist anymore…"

"I suppose the easy answer would be to say that I took the place of the Nemeton." Stiles shrugs.

"That… makes absolutely no sense." Peter states coldly. "You're a person, not a tree."

"He's not a Nemeton, but he now does what the Nemeton did." Lydia pipes in. "All the ley-lines are connected to him, like they were connected to the tree. He cleanses the energy and the magic. It's actually better than it was, considering how sick the Nemeton was…"

"Yeah, but because there was a hell of a backlog, to call it something, I went into a coma while my body learned how to cope with the ley-lines, and especially while it cleared out all the darkness and sickness in the energies." Stiles adds for good measure.

He doesn't point out how providential it was that Lydia happened to be in the hospital, that she went to him and actually took his hand in hers, when it all went down. She was the one that anchored him to his body. Otherwise… Stiles has a feeling he might have become part of the ley-lines themselves if she hadn't been there to call him back to his body. It had exhausted her, which was why she too dropped unconscious. And he truly believes that if the proto-bond (the slightest trace of their old mating bond) hadn't been in place already, he would have lost himself anyway.

"So you're now the one responsible for Keeping the magic in our territory." Peter summarizes.

"That is correct." Stiles nods.

It also means that he's bound to the territory, he'll never be able to leave it… or at least not for long, not without feeling the tether pulling at him, at the core of both his magic and his soul, but that's something that he won't be focusing on, not for a while yet.

No one says a thing for a while and eventually everyone relaxes. The rest of the picnic goes easily enough. As evening comes Talia packs up two sets of leftovers for the children to bring their parents. Talia is the one to keep them company on the front porch as they wait for the sheriff to make his way up the drive.

"I know we've only known each other for a short time, Stiles, Lydia, but I'd like it if you'd consider officially joining the Hale pack." Talia states in a very formal, but heartfelt, tone.

Stiles and Lydia turn to look at each other for just a moment, but that's really all they need.

"We'd be honored." They both say, practically in unison.

Stiles can hardly contain his joy. While the pain of Derek's absence won't just go away, they have a pack once again, and that is a wonderful thing indeed.

**xXx**

Two weeks and a day later, the day before the full moon, Talia drops by the Stilinski home to see Stiles. She finds him in his backyard, carefully tending to several flowerbeds, most of which don't contain mere flowers and one that…

Stiles turns around at the sound of the low growl, and following Talia's line of sight he can tell what's causing it: the flower-bed in the very corner of his back-garden, which contains every single strand of wolfsbane in existence.

"There's really no need to look at me like that, Alpha Hale, I will never do anything that might hurt my pack." Stiles states calmly. "I do prefer to be ready to aid if and when someone else does hurt them, though."

Talia blinks, as she realizes the wisdom in that statement, she nods and relaxes, her features returning to human. She still doesn't approach him until Stiles has fully washed his hands twice, with an unscented liquid soap and something else she has no idea what it is.

"It's soap, basically." Stiles answers the unasked question. "My personal mix, it actually has some wolfsbane ash, along with several other things. I use some magic when creating it, the idea is to ensure that no trace of wolfsbane is left on me, to ensure I won't be hurting anyone else, not even by accident. Like I said before, I will never do anything that might hurt my pack."

"Sounds extremely useful." Talia nods.

Stiles knows it must be hard for her sometimes, to look at him, and see a child, when he acts nothing like a child. It's the same with his dad. Only his dad seems to have decided that since there's nothing he can do to change the past, he'll make things better for the future. He's being completely supportive and caring and just… there. It's something Stiles isn't used to, though he thoroughly enjoys it. In the original timeline, though he did eventually come clean to his dad, by then too much had happened, too many wrongs for them all to be every fully made right. And it's almost funny because, his dad doesn't know that, doesn't know how bad some things got, and Stiles has managed to keep him from blaming himself for whatever the other version of him might have done; but it's still making him try, more than either of them did the first time around and… They're a family, more than they've been since the loss of Claudia, more than Stiles ever hoped they'd be again. It's amazing.

"I was already planning on getting you some." Stiles nods as he dries his hand and joins her on the back-porch. "Not so much for you, specifically, but for the human members of your family. In case they ever need to manipulate wolfsbane."

They don't speak about what might make that necessary, there's no need. Stiles might be hoping that Kate being dead will make things better this time around, but he's not naive, and Gerard's still very much alive. So he'll hope for the best and prepare for the worst. It's what he does.

"So, what brings you here Alpha Hale?" He asks her with a small smile.

"You know you can call me Talia." She comments.

"Oh, I know, and I would, if this were a social call, but I know it's not." Stiles shrugs with a small smile. "So, how can I help you Alpha Hale?"

Talia actually has to smile at that. It still surprises her, how much the boy sees, how much he understands. If it weren't because Peter did a full research on him, using all of his contacts (both legal and not-so-much) and found no connection to the supernatural, other than the Gajos family, and Claudia cut all ties to them when she married Noah Stilinski and moved to America, she doubts most of them even know the kid exists, much less the kind of power he possess. If it weren't because she knows, for sure, that he wasn't born into a pack, she would think that has to be it, because he's just a natural at it. And it might be his 'old pack' (though Talia much rather not think about that, about two of her children building a new pack after losing them all, doesn't want to think about her husband, her cousins, nieces, nephews, and especially the twins, her babies, all dying, and her being able to do nothing about it), but she doesn't think that's it, not fully. So all she can do is think that it's a Stiles-thing, and leave it at that.

"I'd like you to be the new Hale Emissary."

Stiles jaw almost drops in shock at that. He's surprised, honestly, truly surprised, like he hasn't been in a long, long time.

"Are you sure?" he blurts out, not knowing what else to say. "I mean, wouldn't you prefer someone… older? Wiser? Stronger? Someone who actually knows what the hell they are supposed to do? I've no idea what an Emissary's supposed to do!"

Talia smiles, she cannot help but find Stiles's reaction endearing. It's the closest she's come to seeing him act his age, or the age he looks at least.

"An Emissary is a very important part of our pack, they're meant to connect us to our humanity. To remind us that while we might be wolves, we're also humans." Talia declares. "They're also important because they serve as messengers with other packs, and with other supernaturals. Especially places where an Alpha might not be able to go, for whatever the reason."

"And you want me to be that for you?" Stiles is even more confused after the explanation.

"Of course." Talia smiles at him, the gentles, kindest smile she's ever directed at him. "It's not just your power, though that will certainly aid you. It's the fact that you care, for us, and for everyone in this territory. We trust you, both to look after us, and to represent us before others. It's true that you're still a tad young to take over all the responsibilities implied in that position, but I don't actually expect you to take over fully until you've at least graduated high-school. But I've thought about it, and I've talked with Zach, Peter, Philip and even the children. We all trust you." She exhales. "We… I made a mistake with Deaton. I thought that because his mentor was a good man, so would he be. He didn't have much power, but my mother taught me that power wasn't the most important thing in an Emissary, his humanity was." She shakes her head. "Like I said, mistakes were made, but now… I know we can trust you. We all do. You've saved our lives, and I know that, in another life, you did your best to help those of my own pack that survived the fire. So yes, I do believe you're the best person for the job."

Stiles opens his mouth to answer in the affirmative, because what other answer could he possibly give? But then several things come to mind.

"I… before I give my answer, there are several things you need to know." He states.

Talia's actually taken aback by that response. It's not that she actually expected an answer, though truth is, she did. She was almost completely certain that Stiles would accept, even if he probably didn't right away. She wasn't expecting there to be caveats.

"I'm not conditioning my answer." Stiles states, correctly guessing what's going through her mind. "Just… there are things I think you should know before I give you an answer. Things that might make you rethink your offer."

Talia doesn't think such a thing is possible, but she's also coming to realize that the unexpected is kind of Stiles's specialty. So she waits.

"First of all, you might remember we talked before about my being the Keeper of the Magics of this territory." Stiles points out. "We don't yet know what all the consequences might be. But we do know one thing: I cannot leave the territory. When I said I'm bound to the ley-lines I meant that literally. I'm connected to them all. I can move inside the territory easily enough, as long as I can still 'touch' at least one of the lines, everything's alright. I can probably even take off for short amounts of time, for a vacation or something like that. However, if I were to try to leave… well, to be honest we don't actually know what might happen, but my instincts tell me it wouldn't be pretty."

"I see." Talia has to admit that is indeed an important thing, especially when it comes to an Emmissary's duties as a messenger to other packs. Some packs might be close enough to remain in Stiles's 'territory', but that doesn't mean they all will.

"Do you think Miss Martin would be interested in aiding you in those duties you might not be able to take on yourself?" Talia finally asks.

"That is something you will need to ask Lydia herself." Stiles doesn't imagine Lydia will refuse, but still, it's something they should talk about among themselves.

"I shall." Talia nods. "You said there were several things."

"True." Stiles takes a deep breath before addressing what he thinks is the most important thing of all: "I don't know if you might have planned on asking in the future, or if the thought honestly has never crossed your mind. But on the chance that it might, I need to address this now: You know I come from the future, or I suppose it's actually a future, one that will never be now, not with everything that's been changed already. I know the day might come when you will think to question me about it. And I need you to hear me and understand when I tell you that some questions you might ask, I may choose not to answer. Because you're my Alpha now, and I respect that, just like I need you to respect that I used to have another Alpha, one who has my respect as well, one I'll never betray. Not even to you."

For a few seconds Talia wants to feel offended, that Stiles isn't willing to obey him in every way and yet… in the end she's not because she understands. Stiles is loyal, and Talia admires that, even if that loyalty's not all directed at her. And besides, that Alpha, Talia knows it had to have been one of her children, so how could she ever be angry that Stiles chooses to remain loyal to her child after death and a new life and being thrown back in time?

"I accept that." Talia nods, then smiles warmly as she adds. "You truly are a treasure Stiles. The Hale pack will always be honored to have you."

"And I'll be forever honored to belong to it." Stiles answers immediately. "Just like I'll be honored to be your Emissary, Alpha Hale."

"Was that all you needed to talk to me about then?" Talia was expecting worse.

"There's one more thing," Stiles states. "It has nothing to do with my being your Emissary. Though it is very relevant to your pack, was already planning on bringing it up with you when we had a moment in private."

"Oh…" She's beyond intrigued. "Sounds important."

"It is, we need to talk about your niece, Malia, Peter's daughter… the daughter he doesn't remember ever having…"

**xXx**

When they arrive for the next new moon picnic (originally Talia was going to invite them to be there for the actual full moon, but with the addition of Malia, even if she's a coyote and not a wolf, they decide to err on the side of caution) Stiles is beyond shocked when Peter goes straight to him and just… hugs him, tight. So tight that Stiles's feet leave the floor briefly. But then, when the boy looks past the were's shoulder he can see the young girl sitting beside the spot Peter just vacated, she's looking at him shyly, and while Stiles never met Malia at that age, he knows without a doubt that it is her.

Malia… the first girl he kissed (two others might have kissed him first, but as far as 'firsts' go, he still counts that one), the first person he had sex with, his first girlfriend too… Their relationship wasn't the best, he knows. And it wasn't just the fact that they had sex first and then made an attempt at an actual relationship, or that they were in a freaking psychiatric hospital, and he was in the process of being taken over by a millennia old creature of chaos. Malia was the first person to choose him. After Eichen House, and the nogitsune, and everything else. Even as she kept fighting to remain human, when a part of her just wanted to go back to being a coyote, she chose to stay, to be with him. She even told him once that he was the reason she stayed… and even when they didn't work out, when she dated Scott, and later on left him, she never stopped being someone special to him. Stiles would admit that he never loved her, not like she deserved to be loved, not like he loves Lydia, and Derek, but she's still very important to him, she's pack.

After the success with Malia, Stiles decides to make a list about the other things he wants to change, and how soon they can act on each of them. Because he knows that the more time that passes, the changes will pile up, until things will be too different for him to be able to accurately predict anything.

The first thing on the list is Scott, though it's just a formality. Raphael McCall just left Beacon Hills back in April, even without Stiles being around, things happened there as they were meant to, and while he knows that Scott and Melissa will be hurting in that moment, they'll get over it and move on. Deaton won't be there to take advantage of a young boy looking for a father figure, so hopefully he'll have a better influence this time around. Stiles has already decided that the best he can do for him, for the both of them, is to stay away. They'll both be happier and safer without the supernatural intruding in their lives. He'll keep an eye on them for old times' sake, but only ever from a distance.

Next is Erica. He knows the Epilepsy is already a problem, though not too bad just yet, it'll get worse in the coming years. He also knows there's a new experimental treatment that either was just discovered or will be discovered soon, which might be able to help her, but he doesn't know how to make sure she can get it. He'll have to look into that.

Boyd. He knows all about Alicia Boyd and her disappearance, not just because during one of the long, late night talks he and Boyd had as they both tried to get over their grief for the loss of Erica, Boyd actually told him about the sister he lost, about how much his mother changed, how she blamed him for the loss of the girl. It was completely irrational, yes, the loss of Alicia was an awful thing, and Stiles even understood that being a single mother Mrs. Boyd couldn't be with her children all the time, but to blame her son for the loss of his sister… he was just a kid himself! The whole thing had left Boyd deeply traumatized. But in any case, it wasn't even just that, as Stiles, son-of-the-sheriff that he is, made a point to look through his dad's case as soon as he had a chance, and his memory's almost perfect. He remembers enough that he knows he can make a plan. Alicia Boyd won't be getting kidnapped this time around.

Issac. Well, he knows he has to get him away from his abusive bastard of a father. The problem with that idea is that, for the time being, Mr. Lahey is still Coach Lahey, the swimming coach, very well-regarded by everyone not just in the high-school, but the community in general. Camden is also still attending high-school, hasn't joined the army yet, and Stiles isn't sure if that makes things easier or just more complicated because, if Issac was being honest, if he didn't embellish things, or convinced himself that things were better than they actually were… that means that Lahey isn't being abusive at this point in time. But he cannot exactly go all stalker on them and wait for when the man gets violent to do something. On the other hand, he cannot just go to Camden and tell him: "If you leave your dad's gonna become a bastard and hurt your little brother. Oh… and you're going to get killed overseas!" Chances are the guy won't believe him, and why should he? He doesn't know Stiles, or about the supernatural, or anything at all really. But that still leaves Stiles wondering how the hell he's going to fix that.

Others eventually manage to remind him that he's not, in fact, alone. He's part of a family, and of a pack as well. He has people who do know about him, and about the supernatural. Who believe him, who trust him, and who are willing to act if he just tells them what's on his mind…

That's how Peter ends up making a number of calls, that allow Erica's name to be added to the testing of a brand new revolutionary drug for epilepsy. Lydia is the one who helps him plan how to stop Alicia Boyd from being kidnapped. However, that's when things happen that none of them were expecting.

"How was I supposed to know that he was her dad?!" Stiles whines.

Things went insane really fast. One moment Lydia and Stiles were sitting on a half-concealed bench by the edge of the ice-rink, keeping a careful eye on the Boyd siblings. Stiles with phone in hand, ready to call his dad and report the attempted kidnapping once they were sure the siblings would be safe. Lydia there as his support, and because if his plan A of simply 'interrupting' the kidnapping failed, she was willing to use the tiniest of her screams to ensure the man would be going nowhere with the little girl. All their plans fell by the wayside the moment they heard Alicia call "Daddy!" as the man approached her.

"I really wish you'd tell me when you're going to do something kid." Noah shakes his head with an exhale. "While I've no doubt you know what you're doing, most of the time, I wish you let me help you."

"I was!" Stiles assures him. "I was going to make sure Alicia was safe, and then call you to arrest the kidnapper! Except… well, now I don't know."

"No, you couldn't have known kid." Noah nods. "Neither of us could have."

"I knew that Boyd's mom was alone but… I never knew why she was alone exactly." Stiles crosses his arms. "It's not that I expected him to tell me everything but…"

"You cannot solve the problem when you don't have all the variables." Noah finishes for him. "I know exactly how you feel kid. But look at the good side. Vernon and Alicia Boyd are safe, and whatever might happen with them, or with their parents, Child Services will make sure they'll be alright." He smiled slightly. "From what Miss Matthews, the social worker told me, chances are high that they'll end up with their Grandma, and the way she tells it Annabelle Boyd isn't a woman to be messed with. She'll look after your friend and his sister."

Boyd isn't his friend, not this Boyd, and the other one… Stiles doesn't know. He'd wanted the boy to be his friend, to be pack, once, but that was many years ago, Stiles has long since put those feelings behind him. However, him not being interested in befriending him doesn't mean he was about to let the boy suffer when he could do something about it.

"So… you want to help?" He asks suddenly.

"Of course." Noah answers instantly. "What do you need kid?"

"Do you happen to have a file on Raeken? Tara Raeken to be precise?" Stiles asks.

The Dread Doctors and Theo Raeken were the last item on his list, after Gerard Argent. And Gerard… for the longest time he couldn't make up his mind what to do regarding him, other than maybe try and keep an eye out in case he ever decided to go after the Hales. Except it turns out that will never happen, because Gerard is dead. As is Victoria. He has no idea what happened exactly, just that they were in Texas and apparently got caught in a freak gas explosion or something along those lines. The only reason Stiles even knows that much is because apparently he wasn't the only one who thought it would be a good idea to keep an eye on the Argents and any potential retaliation for Kate's death. He let Stiles know, which allowed the boy in turn to scratch him from his list.

As for the last item… Stiles doesn't even know if the Doctors are actually in Eichen House yet, will they even go when the Hale Pack is still active and guarding Beacon County? He has no idea. At least he doesn't have to worry about the nogitsune, that would have sucked, it was bad enough the first time around… But with the Dread Doctors, if they can neutralize that threat in enough time, that'd mean no Chimeras, no Beast of Gevaudan, and hopefully no Wild Hunt either. So many things would be better if they didn't have to worry about all of that.

"Not Tara Raeken, no." Noah pulls his son out of his digressing thoughts. "I do have a file on a Raeken…" he goes through a couple of cabinets before pulling out the file in question, it looks fairly recent. "First name is Theodore, though."

Stiles blinks, he wasn't expecting that. He takes the file when his dad offers it to him, listening to the explanation even as he goes through the papers.

"It was early February when I was notified by Tara that they'd just emitted an amber alert." Noah explains. "A young girl was missing. That was Tara Raeken, I believe. Eleven years old, she was last seen by some joggers on the path that ran by the river. You were in the hospital and I didn't want to leave you. Zachery was with me though, he called his wife. He said that because the trail went through the preserve and that was Hale land they'd know the area better than anyone from my department. And he was right, Peter found Tara, she was in the river, and while the area was shallow enough she was never in any danger of drowning, the hypothermia was a problem. A few more hours and she'd have died. The problem was that while he found Tara, no one could find her brother. And to make matters worse, the first thing Tara said when she woke up, was that her brother had pushed her off the bridge."

"And no one's been able to find Theo…" Stiles confirms.

"No…" Noah's brow furrows. "What do you know about this kiddo?"

"About the specific case, not much." Stiles shrugs. "I met Theo Raeken during senior year of high school. Supposedly he'd just returned to Beacon Hills after living elsewhere for several years. He made up a story about being a recently bitten wolf with no alpha who was looking for a pack, though all along what he wanted was to get into our pack and take over. Things didn't go well, the complete opposite in fact. I…" He shakes his head almost violently. "Doesn't matter. In any case, he wasn't a wolf, but a chimera. There were these guys at Eichen House, the Dread Doctors. They actually turned a bunch of teenagers into chimeras, combining characteristics of different supernatural creatures. It was a mess. But Theo was the first one." He exhales. "In the other time his sister died that day. He claimed to feel guilty, because he didn't find her in time. Though I always suspected that he was the one to throw her off that bridge in the first place. Could never prove it though, Tara was dead, and Mr. and Mrs. Raeken were far too afraid of their son to be of any help."

"Afraid of their son?" Noah cannot imagine such a thing.

"He's a sociopath." Stiles explains. "And a murderer too. Charming, can tell a lie so perfectly even a were cannot tell he's lying. Or at least, not the normal way. He knows the difference between good and evil, right and wrong, he just doesn't care as long as he gets what he wants."

He knows that in the other time Scott's pack came to trust him, that Liam specially liked him, because Theo saved his life. But as far as Stiles was concerned, Theo did it for his own benefit, he must have known it was in his best interest to have someone like Scott's first beta in his debt. Really, the only reason Stiles had never thought Theo responsible for the destruction of Beacon Hills was because Theo was all about self-preservation above all things, he'd have never gotten involved with anything that might mean his death.

"Well, Theodore Raeken is still missing." Noah points out. "Where did you say these guys, the Dread Doctors, were?"

"Eichen House, but I don't actually know if they're there right now." Stiles shrugs. "Hadn't gotten around to checking that out. Those guys weren't really my priority."

"Well, they're now mine." Noah announces. "I've never been much of a fan of Eichen House in the first place. If I can use this to get the government to close down the place, then I will."

Stiles isn't sure such a thing can be done, not with the 'service' the place supposedly provides for the supernatural community. Though all the same, if his dad does manage he'll certainly sleep easier. Regardless of how necessary some might claim the place is Stiles will never stop hating it for many reasons, his own stay there being but the tip of the iceberg.

**xXx**

Months pass, a rather insane Christmas that the Hales insist the Stilinskis spend with them. Lydia is invited too, and while her mom insists on them spending Christmas Day together, the next day she's getting on a week-long Cruise. By then she trusts Noah enough to let Lydia spend the week at the Stilinski house, which means Lydia gets to join the pack every day that week, they all have a lot of fun.

Things are going alright with Stiles and Lydia, attending middle-school in the morning, then taking extra lessons for high-school credits in the afternoons. They don't have any friends outside each other and Cora, who started middle-school the same day they did, though she has no interest in all the extra lessons or moving faster through the curriculum than absolutely necessary.

The anniversary of the fire comes and goes. Then a couple of weeks later they hold a small ceremony in remembrance of Imala Hale. Talia tells them a bit about the woman that was her and Peter's mother. She wasn't born a Hale but a Smith, from the biggest pack in the Olympic Peninsula, north of Seattle. Her lineage as old as that of the Hales, older than the United States even. She fell in love with Samuel Hale and the both of them married young, having Talia almost right away. Then, just a few years later, the Vietnam War, Samuel was drafted… he never returned. Imala only found out she was pregnant with Peter after he was already overseas, never got the chance to tell him. He never knew he had a son. Imala always said she wouldn't have known what to do if it hadn't been for Samuel's father: Carlos, and his other children. They'd all been a great help to Imala when it came to raising Talia and Peter, it was one of the reasons they were all so close even so many years later. Eventually Talia would inherit the alpha spark from her grandfather, and so the pack came to be who they were now. Imala never minded not being alpha, said she never wanted it anyway.

Stiles cannot help but admire the old were, he regrets never having gotten the chance to know her, not having been able to do something to save her. But he also knows there's no point focusing too much on the things he cannot change. He got a second chance, that was enough.

It's in late April that they get the biggest shock ever. It happens on a Saturday night. Stiles is staying over at the Hale House, because while his dad knows he's mature enough to stay home alone, others don't, and they wouldn't look kindly at the sheriff who'd leave his twelve-year-old son at home alone during the night.

So Stiles is staying the night in the Hale House, he even has his own room there (officially it's still called a guest-room, but everyone knows that's Stiles's room). He wakes up the moment someone opens his door. It's probably leftover from all the months they spent in the run, but Stiles just cannot not wake up when someone enters his room, no matter how quiet they're being.

"Dad…?" It's easy enough for him to recognize his dad, even without seeing him.

"Hey kiddo…" Noah murmurs quietly as he goes to sit at the foot of the bed, a hand reaching to touch Stiles's ankle.

Stiles blinks slowly as his brain fully wakes up. It's been a while since his dad went looking for him in the middle of the night, the last time (his time) was when he'd been still having awful nightmares, after the nogitsune, before he learned to keep quiet through it all. And before all the supernatural messes started… he remembers that his dad would go looking for him sometimes, though Stiles wouldn't always wake up back then. Usually it was after a bad case, especially if it was one involving…

"Who?" The question slips out of his mouth before his brain can even fully form the conclusion he's just reached.

"Matthew Daehler." Noah exhales, lowering his head.

It's clear the death of a child, one who's even younger than his own son, if only for about a year or so, pains him. Stiles for his part, his eyes go wide as his brain begins firing in all directions. Noah cannot help but notice.

"You… did you know something about this?" He asks, tensing.

"I… some things?" Stiles admits, cringing at how that sounds. "Not that he was going to die! Honestly! He wasn't supposed to die, not yet…"

"Not y…" Noah takes a deep breath to keep calm. "Okay kiddo, why don't you explain it to me from the beginning?"

"First tell me, how did he die?" Stiles asks in turn. "Do you have the one responsible?"

"He drowned, in Coach Lahey's pool." Noah answers grimly. "As for the how… that's more complicated. We have the Coach, along with the whole high-school swimming team down at the station, but seeing how they're all drunk off their asses it'll be hard to tell who did what, exactly. For now it's looking like they'll all be facing charges for accidental manslaughter, at the very least; Lahey will also be facing charges for child endangerment, and the manslaughter could go up to murder, it depends on how the lawyers decide to handle things, and what Issac has to say. Seeing as how he's our only witness…"

Stiles runs a hand through his hair, it's a bit shaggy now, longer than he ever had it as a kid, but while a part of him sometimes feels a desire to take a razor to his skull, then he'll remember fingers both big and delicate combing through his hair, will remember purring as a nose buried in between his locks, and Lydia's voice telling him how much she liked his long hair… and it always stops him from cutting it.

"Now, why don't you tell me what you know?" Noah insists.

"In the other time, Matt also died due to drowning, though the circumstances were entirely different, really." Stiles assures him, then takes a deep breath and does his best to explain without giving away the wrong information, especially because he knows some nosy-wolves will surely be listening in: "Matt wasn't a good guy. By the time he died he'd killed over half a dozen people, including all your deputies who were on shift the night he broke in to dispose of whatever evidence might point towards him for the other murders he'd been responsible for." He shakes his head. "He was totally bonkers. From what little we did learn, there was an accident or something when he was young, he almost drowned, and he blamed Coach Lahey and that year's swimming team. But, rather than bringing charges against them or anything, he let it fester inside him, until he got his hands on a… supernatural weapon and used it to murder those he saw as the guilty parties. He killed Lahey, and a bunch of others. Then, when you got close to finding him out, he went to the station. He killed Larson, and Richards and… other guys that don't actually work for you yet. He almost killed you too!"

"So… in your timeline he had an accident… about now, but he didn't die, and later, all that happened?" Noah does his best to understand.

"I… I suppose so, yes." Stiles nods.

"If you knew about the accident why not do something about it?" Noah asks.

Stiles hears a noise, and as he looks past his dad he can see Peter standing at the door, he looks like he wants to intervene, probably wants to say something to the sheriff. Stiles just shakes his head. He understands why Peter wants to say something, but there's no need, Stiles also understands why his dad is asking, and that he's not actually accusing Stiles of not wanting to help or anything. His dad would never do that.

"What was I supposed to do?" Stiles asks in turn. "I mean, I didn't actually know the date of the accident or anything. Matt is… was a kid, and Issac was his friend. Was I supposed to keep them from being friends? As for the other part. Everyone in town knows that Mr. Lahey drinks a lot, and that he's a mean drunk. It's also a bit of an open secret that he'll let the swimming team have beers during the parties at his house, some times things even stronger than beer. Everyone knows these things, and no one's done a thing about them. What was I supposed to do? The swimming team was doing so well this year, who would have ever believed me if I had told them the man was a disaster waiting to happen? That he was a violent bastard who was likely to turn on his own son any day?" He exhales, taking his dad's hands in his. "I want to help people dad, you know I do. But sometimes even all the knowledge I have just isn't enough."

And while he'll never admit it, there's a part of him that will never truly mourn Matt. It might be callous of him, but then again, Stiles might be many things (clever, and brave, and cunning, solicitous towards his friends and vicious towards his enemies), but he's never lied, even to himself, and considered himself a good man, because he isn't one, not really. Bottom-line: he doesn't mourn Matt, he probably never will. Because while the death of a child will always be a terrible thing, to him Matt will always be the insane bastard who killed several people simply because they were there when he'd an accident and almost drowned, who killed his dad's deputies because they were getting too close to catching him, who shot his best-friend and threatened his dad…

"Oh kiddo, I'm not blaming you, I'd never blame you!" Noah pulls Stiles into his arms for an embrace. "I just… I wish we could have done more. And you're right, many of us knew things just weren't right with Lahey, and we did nothing about it. And now a child's lost his life, and a bunch of teenagers will have their lives forever changed." He kisses Stiles's brow. "Take care of yourself always kiddo. I don't wanna lose you."

"I will dad…" Stiles tries to reassure him.

"And he has us too, Noah." Peter offers quietly from the door. "We're pack, and pack looks after their own, always."

Noah nods. There might be some things he still doesn't understand, when it comes to the pack and other supernatural stuff, but knowing that the Hales will be looking out for his kid does reassure him. Of course, what he probably doesn't realize just yet is that he's pack too, that the same applies to him, but that's okay, he'll learn in time.

**xXx**

The following months are a mess of epic proportions. All the teenagers who'd been at the party when Matt Daehler died are sentenced to community service and therapy, except for Camden Lahey, who's proven to have been the one to throw Matt into the pool. The authorities do take pity on him to a point though, and decide to judge him as a minor, despite the fact that he's already turned eighteen, so Camden ends up being sent to juvie until he turns twenty-one. Former-coach Lahey is the one who fights the charges all the way, refuses to accept any sort of responsibility, blaming the teens for drinking, his son, he even goes as far as blaming Matt for being there at all! Neither the DA nor anyone else seems too willing to take pity on the man, especially because it's made clear that, regardless of who might be at fault, he just doesn't care that a kid just died…

As far as wake-up calls go, that's a hell of one, not just for the DA and the others involved in the trial, but for everyone in Beacon Hills. As they realized the kind of man Lahey truly is, and the fact that they let that man be a figure of authority to children and teenagers… and that was after the mess of Kathy Vermeil, aka Kate Argent, aka the crazy arsonist and murderer who only missed going to jail for the rest of her life because she was already dead! Stiles has to wonder if it all means that those in charge will be more careful in the future before hiring teachers and the like… then again, Harris is still the Chemistry teacher so… (Chemistry is one of the topics he and Lydia are taking in the afternoons, because it's taught by the teacher of Devenford Prep, which means they won't have to endure Harris).

The silver lining to the whole horrible mess is that, with Mr. Lahey going to prison for the next twenty years (it's the maximum sentence they were able to get, counting each member of the swimming team, as well as Matt and Issac as separate counts of child endangerment, as well as declaring him an accessory to the involuntary manslaughter of Matt), and Camden to juvie until his 21st birthday, Isaac was in need of a family. The ADA, David Whittemore immediately offers to foster the boy.

Stiles and Lydia hope that the arrangement will help everyone involved, because while David and Margaret Whittemore might not be perfect, they do love Jackson. And they hope that having Isaac there, helping him, will not only push Jackson to deal with his issues over his adoption, but will allow him to mature sooner. They might not be planning for either boy to become a werewolf at any point, but still.

Another (indirect) consequence of the situation with Matt is that, as soon as it's resolved Noah decides they need to investigate Eichen House and the Dread Doctors Stiles mentioned, before something else they cannot predict happens. The last thing they need is a new version of the Chimeras, or worst, the Beast of Gevaudan, running around.

It doesn't even take that long. With the memory of Matt's death so recent still Noah has no compunction about faking an anonymous call that prompts him to send a couple of Deputies up to check the psychiatric hospital. The excuse is that they're looking for Theodore Raeken, and since the last thing the DA wants is the possible death of another child to be on his head, he quickly signs all the warrants the Sheriff sends his way. Peter and Talia make a point of being nearby just in case, and its a good thing they do. For when the Dread Doctors realize they're in danger of being discovered they attempt to run, only to be cut off by the Hales. Even with all the ways they've modified themselves, they have no way of escaping Alpha Hale and her left hand.

When the deputies find a doctor actually drilling holes in the head of one woman things go absolutely insane. The whole place is put in lock-down and the FBI is called in. The only reason Stiles doesn't go crazy over that is because he recognizes the man in charge of the team sent to investigate (he's made a point of hanging out at his dad's office somewhat regularly whenever he's not busy with schoolwork, especially during school break) Hotch is the very man who headhunted him in another timeline, and while strictly speaking he's not supernatural himself, Stiles knows that his son is. Stiles has great respect for him because the man was the only one in the FBI who knew that Stiles was supernatural himself to a point and never gave him away, not even when the government turned on them. Then again, perhaps Jack was the reason…

The investigation lasts until the end of the summer, by which more than half of the staff of the psychiatric hospital is either behind bars or dead. Remains of over a dozen different people are found, many of which are impossible to identify. Though they do still fin enough to close several missing-person cases, including Theo's. The only reason the place isn't destroyed entirely is because, as Stiles suspected, the place is necessary, as a supernatural prison if nothing else. Arrangements are made to have the place be under the control of a mixed board of hunters, supernatural creatures and a member of Hotch's FBI team.

Through it all Stiles chooses to keep his distance. Only once does he say anything regarding what's happening, when he tells both his dad and Alpha that Agent Hotchner is a good man and can be trusted. In the end, that's all that's needed.

So with Scott being away from all the supernatural, Erica getting the right treatment for her epilepsy, Boyd away from Beacon Hills and with both his sister and grandmother, Isaac with a new family that will treat him much better than his old one, the nogitsune and the Dread Doctors gone, the Argents out of the map; the Beast and the Wild Hunt will hopefully never be a problem and while there was nothing they could do for Meredith Walker, as she's crazy already, at least without Peter to feed her delusions the Dead Pool will never happen. It's actually a lot more than Stiles thought they'd be able to do in less than two years, he just hopes it'll be enough…

**xXx**

Time passes, sometimes slowly, sometimes fast, but pass it does. And so it happened that in 2011, on the day that, a lifetime ago, Stiles had found himself interrogated and tortured by a psychotic geriatric hunter who believed that because he was human Stiles was more likely to break, who never imagined that, human and all as he was, Stiles was far more loyal, and stubborn than many wolves, that while his body might bend and scar and break, his mind and spirit never would…

But that was a different time, a different life… in this one that particular Friday evening finds the Stilinskis, Hales and Ahmeds (Lydia's mom finally gave in and married her boyfriend of several years less than two months prior) in the private room of Beacon Hill's best (organic) restaurant celebrating Stiles's and Lydia's wedding a couple of hours prior.

It was absolutely insane, but it was done. And there they are: Stiles in a simple black two-piece suit with a crisp-white shirt and no tie (because he's awful at tying them and hates them), Lydia in a knee-length, short-sleeved ivory white dress and heels just high enough to leave her just a couple of inches short of Stiles's height. They're off to one side of the small room, slowly dancing to Richard Marx's and Donna Lewis's "At the Beginning". Anastasia is probably Lydia's favorite animated movie, she always liked that, unlike most Disney princesses, Anastasia was just as capable of fighting for her man, as he was for her. Also, the song is incredibly appropriate for her and Stiles, and everything they've gone through in both the old timeline and the current one.

The second reason for their little party is a bit of an advanced celebration of Lydia's first (in this life) great mathematics prize, which she'll be awarded officially on Monday, during the High-School graduation ceremony. She managed to break her own record, which makes her incredibly proud of herself.

"Is this everything you dreamed it would be?" Stiles asks her quietly.

"No," Lydia admits after a moment. "But then again, I never planned on getting married. It was something I knew would happen eventually, but it wasn't exactly a priority of mine. Yet… I am happy Mischief…" She knows her use of that nickname will show how honest she's being. "I'm happy to be here, with you, with our families…"

"To be Mrs. Lydia Stilinski?" Stiles asks with a goofy smile on his face.

He cannot help himself! Two lives and never in his wildest dreams did he truly believe that the day would come when she would take his name! Even back when he was young the first time around and dreaming of the day she might actually notice him, get to know him, fall in love with him, never did he think she might one day take his name. Because Lydia always was, above anything and everything else: a bright, independent woman who was unlikely to agree with something like taking her husband's name when she already had her own… Except as it happens, she'd much rather have her husband's name, than her father's…

"I'm happy to be with you," Lydia agrees, kissing him tenderly. "Everything else are just details."

**xXx**

The confrontation with Harold Martin goes without a hitch on Monday, after the graduation ceremony has finished and Lydia's been awarded the Schafer Prize as planned. The man postures, threatens, and insults, and the only one who pays any attention to him at all is the reporter from San Francisco they all know is planning to destroy him, and has since the first meeting with Lydia. The Stilinski and Ahmed names won't be mentioned anywhere, so that should keep them all safe enough. And Stiles just knows that if Mr. Martin even tries Mike Ross will probably sue him to kingdom come, the man really seems to just be waiting for an excuse. Really, at times the blonde seems to be even worse than Peter, and Stiles knows for sure he's entirely human!

The next week is almost like a honeymoon for Stiles and Lydia. With Natalie and Elijah officially moved to Greece (they took the private jet to Mykonos on Monday night), the teen-aged newlyweds have the penthouse apartment all to themselves. They do their best to enjoy it. Though they can never forget that there's something missing. It doesn't matter if they never actually talk about it, their empty hands speak for themselves.

Still, they do their best to focus on the positives. The next week is the Full Moon, and by then they've vacated the apartment entirely, leaving it ready for the next person that might one day rent it. Natalie's things were on the plane when she left, and a moving van is hired to take what Lydia and Stiles decided they'll truly need to the new apartment in Berkeley, while the rest is in their own room at the pack house, mostly for storage. The furniture comes with the apartment so they need not worry about it.

While they'd never admit it, truth is that Lydia and Stiles have been waiting with baited breath for that full moon. All their hopes stacked on it, on the chance of Derek finally returning to Beacon Hills. When the full-moon rises in the sky and there's still no sign of him or Laura… Stiles and Lydia say nothing, they just entwine their hands and hold on tight.

"Don't give up…" Stiles whispers into Lydia's ear as he leans his head on hers, so quietly even the wolves won't be able to overhear. "We cannot give up."

"We won't." Lydia assures him. "But Stiles, we cannot put our lives in pause for him either. That's… it wouldn't be right."

He knows there's a lot she must be wanting to say, all the things that are on his mind as well, but the thing is that, whatever they say, it'd just be hoping, because they cannot know. Because in all the years that have passed since they first landed in the past Derek has never approached them, for good or for ill, so they just don't know… at times Stiles wonder if they ever will, know, for certain. In his darkest days he's not sure he wants to find out the answer…

"And we won't." He declares, as confidently as he can make himself sound, he's a firm believer of the 'fake it till you make it' style of living. "We'll live our lives, and we'll hope…"

In the end, what else can they do?

**xXx**

Life in Berkeley is very different from life in Beacon Hills. It's also very different from what life in Washington and later on Virginia used to be. First there's Lydia, she's there with him, sharing an apartment, sharing his bed. She's his wife, Lydia Stilinski, they never got to that point in the other time. But it's also more than that. While the Reynolds pack is not their pack, they still have a great amount of respect for the two future Emissaries (and if anyone finds it odd that the Hale will have two Emissaries when tradition only calls for one, no one every mentions it). Stiles is asked to teach a few tricks to the local Emissary (a witch), and after he gets past the shock: because the woman is at least ten years older than him and clearly quite experienced in her own kind of magic, Stiles is delighted to help. He also teaches the few human members of the pack a few tricks to help them both keep up with the wolves, and to survive in case of an emergency.

"It's not easy, being a human in a pack, or really, in any group of supernaturals." Stiles tells them one day. "I know that, better than you might think. But while you might be different, being human doesn't mean you're weak."

At first the humans don't buy it. They don't see how he could understand them when he's not human at all. They don't know about Stiles's past, and he doesn't plan on explaining any of it to them. Still, he eventually manages to drive the point home, quite directly. He waits until Tom Reynolds, the alpha, has entered the room, and without a word throws two fistful of mountain ash into the air: one traps the alpha, the other Stiles himself. The rest of the pack reacts as expected, they howl, growl, and every single wolf tries to jump him. They don't manage much, what with the ash protecting him. They also cannot get to the alpha. That makes them yell and curse and threaten him instead. But Stiles isn't affected at all. Tom looks around, noticing the absence of Melody (his witch Emissary), as well as his mate, and a few of the older wolves. He turns to Stiles, head cocked to the side. Stiles can tell the exact moment when he sees the purpose of the teen's actions.

"You do know that the definition of insanity is to keep doing the same thing, expecting a different result, right?" He asks when the wolves try, and fail, yet again, to attack him.

"Let our alpha go!" Several of them roar.

"What are we supposed to do then?" Cassie, Tom's little sister and one of the humans, asks.

"Use your heads." Stiles retorts. "Tell me, what does mountain ash do, exactly?"

"It traps us!" Several of them snaps. "Blocks us all!"

Cassie's eyes grow wide and Stiles smiles as he realizes she's got it.

"No," she shakes her head, she's almost giddy with excitement. "Not all of us. Only the wolves."

She doesn't even need to wait for Stiles to confirm it, as she bends down and wipes part of the mountain ash line with her hand, breaking the circle. Tom immediately steps forward and wraps her in a hug, scenting her. Since Cassie has no magic she needs to actually touch the mountain ash to make or break circles; unlike Stiles, she wouldn't be able to make things work anyway if she ran out of ash. But still, she's not as weak and useless as she, and others, might have believed her (and the rest of the humans in the pack) to be.

"So, lesson learned?" He asks, just to be sure.

"Lesson learned." Cassie nods with a smirk, and to prove her point she uses her foot to disturb Stiles's circle, allowing the other wolves to jump him.

Stiles goes down with a laugh, though he does make sure that no one will end up hurt. He lets the young wolves enjoy their victory.

Later on he'll teach them about wolfsbane, and about all the other things humans can do to help wolves that wolves cannot do themselves.

**xXx**

Stiles finishes his Bachelor's in Psychology in two years. His plan is to use that as his pre-law. He'll become a lawyer and perhaps work much the same way Peter does, eventually. Mike has even promised him to give him a shot once he's graduated and passed the bar (his partner, Mr. Specter, had just rolled his eyes but said nothing about it). It's for that reason that Stiles also made sure to take all the courses necessary to get a license as a paralegal. So, the summer after graduating college, he starts an internship in a local legal buffet.

He and Lydia don't really go back to Beacon Hills, haven't since first arriving to Berkeley, but Noah takes the excuse to spend his yearly vacation time in Berkeley with them, sometimes they even go to San Francisco for a weekend. Natalie hasn't visited yet, though there are good reasons for that and Lydia doesn't mind. She expected that her mom would be building a new life in Greece and she was happy for that.

Lydia for her part gets her Mathematics and Chemistry Degrees and while it's still a year early, there are already rumors that she's one of the favorite candidates for getting the Fields Medal the following year. That would be a whole four years early, compared to when she earned it in the other timeline. And yet…

"I'm bored…" She states one morning.

"I hope that wasn't a critique on my performance." Stiles snarks.

It's a Sunday morning and they're both in bed, naked, sweat drying on their skin.

"Don't go fishing for compliments Stiles, it's not attractive." She retorts with a wave of her hand.

He just winks sassily at her, he knows she's not actually criticizing him.

"What has you so bored my princess?" Stiles asks dramatically, raising himself and resting his head on his hand to look at her better.

"Everything." Lydia admits with a groan. "It's all so… easy. I mean, I'm a genius, so maybe a bit of that is expected but… studying at a different school, achieving things faster, was supposed to keep me busy, entertained, and it did, for a while. But it's no longer working."

"You don't feel challenged." Stiles concludes.

"No." Lydia exhales.

Stiles nods, truth is, he's been feeling it too. Less so in his case, it helps that he's studying something entirely different this time around. But even with all that… in the other timeline the supernatural messes kept coming at them, so they were always in a rush, making an effort to keep up in both worlds, hardly ever any free time. It… it's almost like peace doesn't suit them.

"We need something to keep ourselves busy." Stiles declares.

"Like what?" Lydia inquires.

"No idea." He admits, because he might be the one who makes the plans, but even he cannot conjure one out of nowhere, he'll need to actually, well, plan. "I'll let you know when I do."

The internship is a tentative step one of that not-yet-fully-formed plan of his. He lasts exactly two weeks in the internship before resigning. And it's all over one case. It had seemed so simple at first. Single mom in her early twenties had killed her infant daughter, smothered her with a pillow or something like that. It was awful, but awful things happened every day. One of the younger lawyers in the firm was assigned the case and he tried to argue some kind of post-partum depression or psychosis, or a breakdown, anything that might help his client. But experts called in refuted everything, claiming that with the baby girl almost a year old it couldn't be anything related to the birth. And there was no history of psychiatric problems. Stiles kept quiet, simply collecting papers, files, getting copies and looking up facts and figures as asked. Though through it all one thing kept bothering him. The way the woman described the baby's crying: she kept calling it 'screeching' not the kind of word he'd have expected, not even from a new mom who hadn't been able to deal. So, after a full weak when he just couldn't get it out of his head, he finally gave into his instincts and began researching. What he found was like nothing he could have ever expected, and it complicated the case more than anyone ever imagined possible.

As it turned out, 'screeching' was truly the best way to describe it. Because the baby had been half mermaid, and no one had known, not even the mother. The father was a man she met during a vacation in the Caribbean, she never got his contact information, never knew a thing about him other than his first-name: Mario. The thing was, that without some magical help, when on land mermaids' voices truly did sound like screeching. The baby was trying to communicate, but she just couldn't, not in a way her mom could understand. And while the young mother had certainly asked for help to anyone she could think of, she didn't even know the supernatural existed so how was she supposed to get help for that?!

"I cannot do this," He murmurs, there's so much pain in his voice, like he's one breath away from shattering entirely.

"What happened Mischief?" Lydia asks softly as she sits beside him.

He tells her the story, slowly, in starts and stops and with so much feeling; chief of which are grief: for both the dead little girl, who'd never have a chance to grow up, to become all she could have been; but also for the young mother, who tried so hard yet never had a chance either, simply because she didn't know what was going on; and anger, for the world, for fate, that just seemed to stack the deck against them both.

"So you solved it." Lydia concludes.

"I did, but what was the point?" Stiles asks, he really doesn't see the point.

"You saved that woman from a life in prison, or possibly the electric chair." Lydia reminds him. "That's a good thing, you know?"

"Maybe, but how must she feel now, knowing that she killed her own child? And not for anything either of them did but just… she didn't know Lydia!" And that, right there, is the core of it all. "She didn't know what her baby was! She didn't even know the supernatural existed. She asked for help, and there was no one… There should have been someone!"

It's not the woman's fault, yet that changes nothing, it won't bring that little girl back, it won't take away that young mother's guilt and self-loathing, it won't stop the rest of the people (the normal, mundane humans who know nothing of the supernatural) from seeing her as a terrible person, as a child-killer.

He's so angry, with the circumstances, with fate, with the world that will allow something like that to happen. With himself, for feeling so useless, so… He hates not being able to do something anything. He's a man of action, has always been. His best-friend has become a werewolf? He'll find everything he can, how to help him, how to protect him, find out all the things that could hurt him and how to make him better; all the dangers and how to either shield them from them, or if that's not possible, then how to fight them. He's not the kind of person that can see a wrong and not do anything in his power to right it… And perhaps that's just what he should be focusing on. This is a wrong: there being a young mother in such a situation, who didn't know, who couldn't find help when she needed it the most. What he needs to do is to stop just being angry and do something about it, to make sure that such a thing will never happen again…

"I'll be that someone." Stiles announces after what seems like forever.

Lydia… she doesn't even seem surprised at all, like she's been expecting that very thing from the moment their conversation began… or perhaps even before that.

"I'll be right here with you, every step of the way." She promises him.

And that's how Stiles makes the choice that will define the rest of his life.

**xXx**

It's almost funny how in some ways Stiles has ended up back exactly where he started, and in others not at all. He goes back to Berkeley, this time for a degree in Criminology, though instead of pushing forth with classes morning and afternoon, he finds a half-time job working for the local private investigator. It's mostly doing grunt work: looking things up, dealing with files, copies (not that different from what he was doing as a paralegal, really), but he knows that he needs a certain number of hours along with the degree in order to be able to get a license as a Private Investigator.

He finally understands what Lydia apparently realized a while ago. He needs a purpose, needs to be able to help people. Not after the awful things happen, not when he'll be left wishing that things were different, left cursing fate for the hand some people are dealt… he needs to be able to stop bad things from happening. He still doesn't know how he'll make sure that the right people know of him, he'll work on that later. But at least he now has a plan, that's something.

Lydia comes up with her own plan by the start of the fall semester, when she switches from a Math program to a Biochemistry one for her undergrad. She's decided that if Stiles will be the one to research the 'monster of the week' and offer his help to all newbies to the supernatural world; then she'll be the one he calls on when someone is injured, or poisoned or something equally bad and they need to find out what with and how to treat it. It's the perfect plan (and it certainly beats the whole 'learning by doing' when getting things wrong means someone ends up dead… or worse).

The following summer Lydia and Stiles spend a few days in South Korea for the Fields Medal award. Lydia's case is very particular because while she's clearly a very talented mathematician, and all scholars involved with the award agree she's done great things, she doesn't have a PhD in Math, not even a Master Degree, which is apparently a requirement for the award. She still gets a medal with a special mention though, and that seems to make her happy enough.

"I knew the consequences," She tells Stiles on the plane back to California. "When I chose to switch to Biochemistry. But I've realized that all along, it wasn't about the Fields Medal. That was just… it was something I latched onto because it was a physical representation of my objective. Which was proving to everyone that I was more than what they insisted on painting me as: more than the pretty girl, the shallow bimbo, the trophy wife… So long I was believed to be just those things, that I felt the need to prove everyone wrong."

"You're not that." Her husband tells her vehemently. "Not any of it Lydia. You're not merely pretty, you're beautiful. You're not shallow at all, and those who might believe that, it's because they don't know you at all. You care, so much… and you're so strong… stronger than any other person I know. And there's no way you're a trophy wife…" his expression turns mischievous as he adds. "If anyone's a trophy in this marriage I think that's gonna have to be me… What do you think? Should I be watching my figure to make sure you won't switch me for a younger model?"

Lydia cannot help herself, she snorts in laughter. Which is exactly what Stiles was aiming for.

"I love you." She tells him, softly but wholeheartedly.

She slaps a hand over his mouth to stop him from saying 'I know' or something like that. He just smirks, because he knows what she's thinking, and her pre-emptive action is almost better than any reaction to his actually saying the words would have been.

"I know better now." She continues. "I know who I am. And I know you do too. You, and the pack, you know me, truly know me. You accept me, care for me, love me… and that's enough. Fuck the rest of the world, I have all I want and need already."

Stiles smiles widely before kissing her, brief but intense (almost enough to call the flight attendant's attention). A part of him wonders what they think when they see the two of them. Two young people, barely past their teenage years, with wedding bands on their fingers… do they believe them to be newlyweds on their honeymoon? He wonders what they'd think if they knew they've been married for three years now…

"I love you too." He whispers practically against her lips.

Then he settles down in his seat, letting Lydia get comfortable against his shoulder, dozing off as the plane crosses the Pacific Ocean.

**xXx**

Noah pays the couple an unexpected visit on January, a year and a half later. Stiles is working on some research for his job. He's earned his Criminology degree, after which he'd gone to work full time for the local PI. All with the aim of having enough hours to become licensed. He still has a few months to go and already Billy, his boss, is trying to convince him to stay, become his partner in the business. Lydia for her part was convinced to devote enough time to her recent research of a new way of detecting poisons, drugs and other substances, that might be faster and more precise than the methods used nowadays. If she manages to make it work the research alone might be enough to grant her not just a PhD, but also several awards. Neither of them have returned to Beacon Hills at all for years, happy to receive Noah, and at times one or more of the other Hales when they choose to visit. They've also flown to Mykonos twice to visit Natalie, Elijah and the twins.

Still, considering that Noah visited them for Christmas (though not New Years), it is quite a surprise when he drops in on them the first weekend of the month.

"Dad?" Stiles asks, worried. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes." Noah responds automatically, then spins around and begins pacing as he revises. "No… I, I don't even know…"

The way he runs a hand through his hair, messing it up, reminds Lydia very much of Stiles. She knows that not many people see the likeness between the two Stilinski men. Stiles himself has told her that he looks mostly like his mother: Claudia. He has her skin-tone, her moles, her eyes (her smile too, Noah would say), the only things he got from his dad are his built, his hair, and his penchant for researching anything and everything that falls into his hands. And his desire to see justice done, even if Noah's always been one to do things by the book, to follow the law, while Stiles long since decided that he's willing to twist, bend and even break any and all rules in order to get things done.

"Is it about Peter?" Stiles asks abruptly.

Lydia closes her eyes, she's always known that tact isn't one of her husband's virtues but still… Noah freezes entirely. Then he turns around so abruptly he almost trips over his own feet as he stares straight at his son. He opens and closes his mouth repeatedly, seemingly trying and failing to find the words with which to reply to that.

"I… I don't… Peter… I…"

"Oh come on Dad! Do you think we're that blind? That we haven't noticed the staring, the whispers, the way you move sometimes? That we haven't seen the hickies?! I swear to god I know more than I ever wanted to about my father's sex-life!"

"You… I…" Noah babbles.

Lydia throws a small but strong kick at Stiles's ankle, making him focus.

"You know there's nothing wrong with that, right?" Stiles asks, his tone much softer, and a lot more understanding than before. "You and Uncle P…"

"You know I love your mother, right?"

"I do."

"I don't… I didn't stop loving her just because she died. She's in my heart, she always will."

"I know Dad, I know. Just like I'm sure Peter still loves Olivia. She was his mate, that's not a small thing when it comes to wolves. But just because you already loved one person, because you still love them, whether they're here or not, doesn't mean you cannot love someone else. Love doesn't work like that. It's not finite, it doesn't have a limit, unless we impose it ourselves."

"Were… were we together? Peter and I, I mean. In your other future?"

"I… I don't know. I hope not. And not because I think there's anything wrong with it, or with either of you! It's just… It'd mean that you, neither of you, ever felt comfortable enough to tell me about it, and the idea of that hurts…" He shakes his head. "In any case, the Peter from the other timeline was very different from Uncle P. He didn't just lose lose Olivia there, he also lost Oli, and… pretty much everyone. He was not a very good person. I think… I think the fire burned more than just his skin, it also burned his heart and soul, and he never truly recovered from that. I'm not saying he couldn't do good things. Because he did. He… he died to save us, in the end, Lydia and I. He's the only reason we survived long enough to meet with our… alpha. That we recovered the hope of even finding them."

"Stiles…"

Stiles says nothing more for a moment, just turns to look at Lydia, sitting on the couch beside him while he and his dad are standing. He extends one of his hands to her and she takes it in one of hers, like she always does. She looks into her eyes, and it's like she knows exactly what he's thinking without him needing to say a word. She nods.

"You know I love Lydia, I've always loved her." Stiles says, turning to look at his dad, without letting go of his wife's hand.

"You were together before you came back." Noah nods.

"We were." Stiles agrees. "Though you also know that I was in love with her even before that. Or at least as much as one child can be in love with another." He shakes his head. "What I'm trying to get to is: I love Lydia, totally and completely. I will never love another woman like I love her… she holds a place in my heart that will never belong to anyone else… But she's not the only person that I love… Just like I'm not the only one that she loves. There used to be three of us. Lydia, myself and…"

"…and your Alpha." Noah finishes for him.

That makes the couple's heads snap towards him at the same time.

"We know." Noah nods calmly. "Not everything, of course. You were always very careful when you talked about your alpha. But there was something about the way you said that word… like you were editing yourselves, like you wanted to say something else. Peter was the one who helped me fill in the blanks."

"Yeah, our alpha…" Stiles murmurs quietly and then, deciding why the hell not, he adds for good measure: "Our mate."

"Will you be looking for him, if you ever come back to Beacon Hills I mean?" Noah inquires.

"Of course we're going back to Beacon Hills!" Stiles sounds honestly scandalized.

"You… does the pack believe that?" Lydia asks quietly. "That we're not coming back?"

"Not really." Noah shakes his head. "Though you have to admit, it's been a while."

It has, but there just seems to be so much to do, and Stiles and Lydia cannot help but think that they need to be ready before they go back. They aren't even sure ready for what exactly but…

In the end Noah only stays one night, and after brunch he's back in the rental he drives whenever he visits them. Later that evening Cora sends them both a single picture: of Noah and Peter standing on the porch of the Hale house, kissing…

That same evening, after a bout of lovemaking Lydia's laying on the bed, still naked, Stiles's long fingers slowly, sensuously tracing the Hale triskele that marks her upper back. His own symbol almost seems to itch, but he ignores the sensation. She in turn traces the white lily tattooed on the inside of his right arm. The tattoos were a crazy idea they had during their second wedding anniversary, the way they chose to express their commitment to each other. Because while the Hale tattoo once was about that, it's not anymore. Now it's a symbol of the Hale pack, all of it, not just the three of them. So instead they chose to get new tattoos, as a representation of their love. In the inside of the arms they always link together. He got a white lily, because that is a flower that represents both innocence and death, which fits Lydia perfect; while she got a black raven, a bird of mischief and magic, one that hunts with wolves… Also, and while they've never said it out loud, it's obvious they're holding onto the hope that one day they might be able to get a tattoo on their other arms: one of a black wolf with bright eyes (whether they're golden, red or blue they won't care).

"I want to go home…"

It's impossible to say which of them says it first exactly, or if perhaps both of them do. But once the words are out there… that's it.

It cannot happen immediately, of course not. They need to get everything in order. To finish what work they've already begun. There are several cases Stiles is currently working on, and he won't fail Billy when the man's put his trust in him despite his obvious youth and inexperience when it comes to the work. He also needs to talk to him about getting his license once and for all, and to let him know that he won't be staying. Stiles is truly flattered that Billy wants him to be his partner, but that's not what Stiles truly wants. As for Lydia, she probably will need to talk with people at the University, make arrangements to continue her research elsewhere or something like that. Then they'll both go and talk to the Reynolds pack, thank them for their hospitality, and make arrangements for their possessions to be packed and taken to Beacon Hills… and on that front, they need to find a house, or at the very least an apartment; much as Stiles might love his dad, he has no interest in them living with him.

So yeah, quite the list of things to do, but still, the decision's been made: they're going home.

**xXx**

It takes them three months to put all their affairs in order but finally in Mid-April they're ready. Lydia calls Peter to see about a place for them to live, at least temporarily, she's particularly interested in them renting the penthouse she and her mom lived in; Peter promises something better and a few days later sends them a set of keys and an address neither of them recognizes. Stiles has made arrangements to transport all the stuff they cannot fit in Lydia's Prius (a part of him hopes that now they're going back to Beacon Hills he'll be able to find someone to fix his Jeep, he misses good ol' Roscoe…) to their new place. He just hopes there'll be enough space, he has no idea how they managed to collect so much junk in just a few years…

On Saturday afternoon, they're finishing with their packing, the movers won't be there until Monday morning, and they aren't actually leaving before sometime Tuesday, but the Reynolds are expecting them at the pack compound on Sunday, and both Stiles and Lydia know how they like the go all day long. So they need to finish most of their packing on Saturday. Alpha Reynolds tried to convince them to stay at least until the full moon, but they refused. The Reynolds aren't their pack, the Hales are, and what better way to make a statement than to arrive just in time for a full moon celebration? Well, they will be arriving three days before the full moon, but still. The only reason they're even waiting that long is because the one and only case Stiles got to work as Billy's official partner, a kidnapping case, actually went to trial, and since it was Stiles that found the last child to be kidnapped, and got the piece of evidence that lead them to the kidnapper, the DA asked him to stay in town until it all ends (thankfully it won't be much longer).

"Hey, what's this?" Lydia asks unexpectedly at some point. "Who's Boyce Fox?"

Stiles looks up from the box with kitchenware that he's taping close, to see her holding a dog-eared paperback. The cover shows, on the upper part, a full moon, slightly obscured by the tops of some trees, the lower part shows what looks like the forest floor, worms coming out of the ground. The title in the middle reads: "Wormmoon" in big amber colored letters.

"Ah… that's the Fullmoon series!" Stiles says brightly. "The books are awesome. I discovered the first one when we were in Athens for that layover a few years ago. Fox is a totally amazing writer and I'm waiting eagerly for the next book to come out…"

"Why is it so much like Spring Semester in sophomore year?" Lydia asks. "The first time around at least. I mean, there might be no wolves here. But this chapter, with Kamen's resurrection… it's almost exactly the same as what Peter made me do…"

"I… I've no idea." Stiles admits after a moment. "I mean, I did notice some similarities of course. It's kind of one of the reasons I liked the books so much, I think. But I never thought…"

"Who's Boyce Fox?" Lydia asks again, closing the book with a snap at looking at the back cover. "There's no photo of him here."

"Nor anywhere else." Stiles reveals. "What? I got curious! Apparently he's a mostly independent author. The first three books or so were published through Amazon, before the deal with SIP was signed. He has a huge following in Europe, not so much here, not yet. Apparently mutants aren't 'in' right now."

"What I really want to know is how the hell this complete strange knows what happened that night?!" Lydia hisses. "Only three people are supposed to know about it! You, me and…"

She breaks off at the same time Stiles's head snaps up to stare at her in shock.

"You think…" He breaks off, too afraid to even say the words.

Before she can say anything their bodies seize, trying so hard to escape the burning sensation on their backs, even though they know it's impossible. Stiles's right hand reaches out for Lydia's left without thought and soon they're holding onto each other, so tight they could almost break the other's bones, yet refusing to let go. They have no idea what's going on, no idea at all, just that, whatever it is, it's big.

The moment passes, the burning disappearing entirely, and like the near-absence of pain might cause a near euphoria; as the burning disappears a different sensation flourishes in them both. It's like a rush, a heat under their skin. From one moment to the next they're in each other's arms, embracing passionately, kissing, pulling at each other's clothes until they're completely naked. They don't even make it to the bedroom before joining, and the pleasure is so keen, sharper and sweeter and just… more, than anything ever before, that they cannot help but blackout briefly.

When they come to neither of them says a thing, they just hold each other, and almost without noticing, they end up gently tracing the other's triskele tattoo. They don't talk about what just happened. About how strange it was, how sudden, how intense… they also don't speak of the fact that just for a moment they didn't feel that hole in their hearts, in their bond, the empty spot that's been there for so long they've almost grown used to it, almost… They say nothing, they don't need to, because in that moment they're both doing the exact same thing: hoping.

**xXx**

They make it to Beacon Hills in the late afternoon, the sun is about to set and all Stiles wants is to get out of the car, stretch his legs a bit, eat something, maybe shower, and fall into bed. And he's no idea what hope is there of him getting most of those since they're probably going to have to arrive to unpack everything, or at least enough to actually put sheets on the bed before falling onto it. And that's if the place is dust-free, and while it being Peter behind the acquiring does give him hope that it won't be a dump Stiles is just so exhausted…

Once they're in the city proper Lydia begins giving him instructions with help of her phone's GPS. Stiles feels like they've been there, even if the streets all have names that are completely unfamiliar to him. And then they arrive.

The building looks strange, like old and new at the same time. The bottom floor has what looks like a bakery, or what used to be a bakery. Lydia directs him to a parking lot behind the building, as the one in front is marked for clients only. They get out of the car and Stiles mindlessly goes towards the trunk to collect their bags. It's only after he's closed it, one bag in each hand, that he actually raises his head and gets his first good look at the building, he almost drops the bags in shock (he also quickly realizes that the only reason Lydia isn't beside him is because she's still standing by the passenger-side door, staring at the building). It's Derek's old loft… and how the hell didn't they realize where they were beforehand? Of course, the streets all had different names, because apparently in this timeline they aren't in the 'Old Industrial district' but in the Business district of town. They aren't surrounded by old, abandoned, derelict warehouses but by businesses, office-buildings and several apartment ones.

Stiles turns to look at Lydia, who's staring back at him and both are just at an absolute loss. They say nothing, they just… neither of them knows what to say, at all. So, in a sort-of daze, they walk into the building. It feels so strange, like a deja-vu gone wrong in the best of ways (and that shouldn't make sense, not even in his head, except it sort-of does?). Because they know exactly where they're going, they almost know the exact number of steps to the elevator, the seconds it takes for it to go up, and then towards the sliding door… except everything around them looks so different from the memories in their heads.

The door opens much more easily than it ever did in the other time, but neither Stiles nor Lydia truly notice, both of them entirely focused on the presence they can feel on the other side of it, because they might not be wolves, might not have enhanced senses, but they aren't human either.

Neither of them move for the longest time. It's… almost like some kind of spell, or perhaps more like they're afraid that it's all some kind of spell and if they move the magic will break and it will turn out to be all a fantasy, an illusion of some kind. They'll discover that they aren't truly standing right there, all three of them, face to face for the first time since they all died, since the end of the world they knew, since they fell back through time and woke up twenty years in the past, to start their stories all over again.

It's impossible to tell who it is that moves first, perhaps they all do, at the same time. Bags are forgotten by the door and soon they're all standing close together, they don't even think about it as three pairs of hands reach out, each meeting another, clasping together. Their bonds flare brightly just for a moment, and it's like they can suddenly breathe. Like they've been holding their breath all this time and hadn't even realized it, not until they found themselves in each other, again. And most importantly: for the first time in so, so long, no hands are left empty…

**Author's Note:**

> So... what do you think? 
> 
> Just to clarify, regarding the whole 'being bound to the territory'. First of all, I don't see the territory as it being just Beacon Hills, or even Beacon County. Since it's kind of fanon that the Nemeton (and any other such trees) are extremely old (like ancient, old), I imagine its roots to extend much more, more than any normal tree could reach; and those are the physical roots, the lines would reach even further. In few words, I imagine this 'territory' to encompass most of NorCal (hence Stiles being able to stay in Berkeley for over half a decade, no problem).  
> Next, regarding his trips to Mykonos and Korea. He himself states that he'd be able to leave for short periods of time, just not more than that. I imagine this bond not like shackles, but the whole opposite. It's something that makes him feel at easy, almost like a sense of home. When he's away he'd feel that lack; also, because his magic depends on the Nemeton, he wouldn't be able to do magic outside of the territory. In short, he wouldn't feel comfortable, or even completely safe. It's not so much that he'd be hurt, but perhaps on a psychological level, something like anxiety, stress. It wouldn't stop until he were to touch the ley-lines again.  
> Hope that explains things better.
> 
> Full-sized poster (the one in the series/page) and other assorted fanarts (some yet to come) can be found in DA where I go by Princess-Lalaith. 
> 
> Please tell me what you like, what you don't, and if there's anything you'd like to see that I haven't gone into yet. I'll do what I can.


End file.
